


Better Than The Real Thing

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Comfort Food, Eavesdropping, First Time, Fluff, Friendship, Gay Sex, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, POV Alternating, Phone Sex, Platonic Sex, Porn, Pornstars, Sex Toys, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 67,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7306969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark and Nicky have been best friends and flatmates for over a year, despite the fact that Nicky doesn't think very much of Mark's long-distance boyfriend Kian.  But hard times, a run of bad luck, and both their uncertain futures push Nicky to desperate measures, and he discovers a knack for something a straight boy from Dublin had never expected of himself.</p><p>ie. Nicky does gay porn and doesn't tell Mark because he's an adorable idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mark couldn't stop laughing.

It was the look on Nicky's face. Oh, he'd seen some classic Nicky looks before. Like that time the milk had turned without them realising and Nicky had taken a long swallow. Or the time Mark had suggested watching a re-run of Friends instead of the premiers. Nicky was good at looking shocked and appalled.

This was the best one yet.

“Stop laughing!” Nicky barked. Mark shook his head, giggling harder while Nicky glared. “Mark! It isn't funny!”

Mark rolled onto his back, still cackling, then squawked when Nicky landed on top of him, hand grappling at Mark's mouth to gag him. Mark bit the hand, heard Nicky yelp, then shoved him off the couch. Nicky hit the floor. Mark sat up, still hiccuping laughter.

“Ow!”

“Serves you right.” Mark grinned, helping him back up. “Come on. Can you really blame me?” He giggled again, saw Nicky glare. “It's just...”

“Fuck off.” Nicky plonked down beside him, shoving him lightly. Mark put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a squeezing hug. Nicky growled.

“You'd be bloody great at it,” Mark offered, though he knew it wasn't much consolation. “You're the perfect sort. Fit, blonde, cute... Bit old, but...”

“Bit _old_?” Nicky looked appalled again. Mark tried not to start laughing. “I'm twenty-four!”

“In gay porn, that's ancient,” Mark pointed out. “Half the stuff I watch you feel a little bit wrong because they look underage.”

“I do _not_ need to know about the porn you watch.”

“As long as you're not in any of it,” Mark retorted. Nicky scowled. The laptop was still open, the website rather garishly advertising something that, until about five minutes ago, he'd never really thought of Nicky in connection to.

The story had been outraged and a bit embarrassed, and Mark was sort of surprised Nicky had shared it with him. Though if the same thing had happened to him he supposed he would have had to tell _someone_. How could you not? It was too bizarre.

Just walking down the street that afternoon, Nicky on his way back from the corner store, and some guy had come up, handed him a card, and said if he was interested to give him a call.

For something called GayLadsXXX.com.

Nicky had come home, blushing and swearing, looked like he wasn't sure whether to be flattered or totally offended, and Mark had proceeded to open his laptop, look up the site, and completely fall to pieces with laughter.

“It's not funny,” Nicky mumbled. Mark snorted, scrolling down the screen. Two lads were making out on a gif at the bottom, starkers and hands all over the place. There was the offer of BIG BLACK COCKS. Also Daddies, Leather, Golden Showers, Cumshots, and Fisting.

The fisting looked quite interesting.

“Well, take it as a compliment.” Mark smiled, letting go of Nicky's shoulder. “Nobody's ever asked me to suck someone off for money.”

“Isn't that how it works between you and Kian?”

“Fuck off.” Mark pushed him lightly, got a grudging smirk. “Twat.”

“Ooh, touched a nerve.” Nicky smirked. “How long's it been, then?”

“Couple weeks?” That was the hard thing about a long distance relationship. They'd been together a year before Mark had come down to Dublin to study. Kian still at home and doing a music scholarship. Mark had thought about staying in Sligo, but they didn't offer the program that he wanted, so they'd finally agreed to do things separately. To take some time, visit where they could, and look at moving in together once things settled a bit more. That had been over two years ago.

He'd sort of gotten used to missing Kian. It had become part of his life, only really painful when something set him off. A smell, a phonecall, watching a movie they both loved. Little things that reminded him that Kian wasn't here.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” Mark shrugged. “You hate him anyway.”

“I don't hate Kian.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “We don't really know each other. I'm sure he's a nice lad.”

“You fight every time he's here.”

“Sorry,” Nicky sighed. Mark shrugged again. Kian and Nicky had never really gotten along. He'd answered the advert for the flatmate nine months ago, had genuinely hated living in a dorm with disgusting room-mates and was making enough money waiting tables at the 24 hour pancake restaurant to be able to go out on his own. He thought maybe it was a bit of jealousy, that Nicky got to see Mark all the time and Kian didn't. He had a feeling Kian thought something was going on between the two of them. Which couldn't have been further from the truth.

It didn't explain Nicky not liking Kian, but for some reason they'd just got off on the wrong foot. He and Nicky had clicked straight away, been best friends within minutes, always seemed to be on the same page about most things. He liked living with Nicky.

“Well, at least I've gotten a bit of entertainment for the day.” Mark snorted, clapping Nicky on the shoulder. “Let me know if you ever decide to do it, yeah? I'll make sure I watch your debut.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Nicky crossed his arms. “Shouldn't you be at work?”

“Afternoon off.” The television remote was sitting on the coffee table. Mark grabbed it, snapping the laptop closed as he did. “Shouldn't you?”

“Night shift. Stacking shelves.”

“Ooh, fun.”

“Yeah, at least I don't have to deal with customers.” Nicky yawned. “I'll clear out around nine.”

“Cool.” It was only six or so. They both had fairly shitty jobs, but they sort of scraped by. Even if they couldn't really run the heat all the time. Or ever. They'd spent a lot of the last winter wearing parkas indoors. The microwave had broken two months ago and hadn't been replaced, and Nicky had taken to putting a brick in the toilet cistern so it wouldn't use up as much water when they flushed. Neither of them had a car. “Want dinner?”  
  
“What do we have?”

“Noodles?” Mark shrugged. “I can mix in one of those stir-through sauces?” Nicky had blagged them from a woman who had come in to do free samples at the supermarket.

“Do we have any tea?”

“Couple bags.” He stood, going to the pantry. It was depressingly bare. He pulled out an onion. “Think this is still good?”

“As long as it's not poisonous yet.” Nicky stood up too, going to flick the electric kettle on. That, at least, still worked, though it was on it's last legs. Mark drummed his chin, looking in at the meagre options. “Suppose it's quite flattering.” Mark looked at him, confused. “The... the porn thing.”

“I suppose it is.” Mark smirked. Nicky went a little pink, looking away. “Well, if things get bad at least you've got options.” He nudged Nicky lightly. “Though you'd have to sleep with lads.”

“Eurgh, no thank you.” He got a scowl of disgust. “Like, I like my own bits, don't get me wrong, but I don't really think I want to get involved with...” He shook his head. “It's bad enough when you two are on the job.”

“We're discreet and respectful.”

“You're a bloody screamer is what you are.” Nicky laughed. “Oh... Kian... Kian... yes... yes...” He moaned theatrically. “Oh, baby, yeah...”

“Fuck off,” Mark mumbled, felt his cheeks go hot. He wasn't _that_ bad. It was just they usually hadn't seen each other in a while and...

“Oh. Mark. Just like that... fuck me... fuck me... yeah... Marky...”

“Nicky...” Mark covered his burning face with both hands, groaning. A hand slapped him on the back. “Fuck you.”

“Take it as a compliment,” Nicky teased. Mark was about to retort, about to say something withering and extremely clever, when they both heard a pop and a sputter and the room was plunged into sudden darkness. They both jumped, then groaned. The kettle blinked off. Nicky sank down into the kitchen chair.

“Your turn.” Mark sighed.

“I did it yesterday.” Nicky leaned his head in both hands. “Fuck I hate this place.”

“Yeah, well...” Mark patted his shoulder. “It's all we can afford. At least the company's good.” That got a small smile. He smiled back. “I'll get it.”

 

*

 

Nicky kicked his feet up on the couch, waiting for Mark to come back from the fuse box. Mark had wandered down to the basement with the keys and a defeated slump in his gait, the door clicking shut behind him. They always locked the door, even when they were home. It wasn't like they had anything of value to steal but it was a fairly shit neighbourhood and there was always a car fire or some fresh graffiti for entertainment. Kian always looked a bit appalled when he visited.

Iffy boyfriend aside, Nicky quite liked Mark. Had done since he'd knocked on the door nine months back, smiling awkwardly and looking around the flat like it was some sort of palace. He'd learned to be disappointed since, but that was what Nicky had liked about him. Fresh from the country, all wide-eyed and apparently amazed that he was allowed out on his own. His optimism was sort of infectious, especially to Nicky who had always had a touch of the pessimist in him.

He'd found out Mark was gay rather quickly. Not that his flatmate had tried to hide it exactly, but he'd stepped around it a bit the first week or so, not wanted to push things in case Nicky got offended or something. It had been cute. Nicky had asked him flat out the second week, gotten a nervous nod, and they'd left it at that. Mark was gay. Mark was also a really cool guy who was always early with the rent.

The lights flickered back on. Nicky made a soft whoop of triumph, getting up to go turn the kettle on again.

So yeah, Mark was gay. Nicky had always been a fan of the whole 'to each their own' mentality. If Mark wanted to fuck guys, even if they included _Kian_ of all people, that was his business. Nicky didn't feel the need to get involved.

He certainly wasn't going to do it on camera with strangers.

He was just tipping the water over the teabags when Mark unlocked the door and came back inside, looking a little breathless from the stairs. Nicky added milk and handed him a mug.

“Thanks.”

“S'fine.” Mark took a sip. “Thanks.”

“S'fine.” Nicky added sugar to his own, listening to the familiar sounds of Mark bustling about, grabbing the probably-alright onion and a packet of noodles. The tap ran, then a saucepan landed on the stove, Mark still holding his mug in the other hand. It was white, a bit chipped, and said _Sligo Arts Festival 1994_. “Hey, remember that time we had a microwave?”

“Total luxury,” Mark snorted. Nicky hopped up on the counter while Mark got food going. He kept arguing that Mark should train to be a chef or something, ditch his shitty Social Work courses and cook for a living. Mark didn't seem to really enjoy it. Oh, he liked the idea of it, getting to help people and all that, and he'd never say he wasn't interested any more, but Nicky got the feeling he had come so far he was just finishing it out of obligation.

But Mark was like that. Determined as hell, even when it was a bit pointless. Like Kian. Long-distance relationship, barely saw each other, and Nicky got to watch him pine all the time like something was going to change. Kian had no interest in moving to Dublin, Nicky could see it despite what he said, and Nicky couldn't see Mark moving back home. He'd flourished here, become this gorgeous, confident young man who would be squashed back in a box if he went home again.

“Nicky?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you pass me the lighter, please?”

Nicky nodded, passing it over. The pot was starting to boil, but their old gas stove did have a habit of going out. Mark got it relit again and set the pot back on top.

“Alright?”

“Thanks.” Mark lit the hob next to it, got a frypan heating as well. “Kian's coming down this weekend.”

“Okay.” Nicky watched him bustle about, grabbing sauces and seasonings. Mark did have a fairly excellent spice rack. His mam had taught him well.

Nicky's mam had tried to do the same thing. He hadn't really been listening, at the time, though now he was sort of wishing he had. Mark could do things with oregano that most people only dreamed of.

“When did you find that out?”

“He texted me while I was downstairs.” Mark smiled. It was a cute smile, the one he did whenever he was talking to Kian on the phone, a little light dancing behind his eyes. “Do you mind if he stays for a couple of days?”

“Course not. I love it when Kian visits.”

“That sounded almost convincing.”

“I've been practicing.”

“I appreciate the effort.” He tipped the contents of the saucepan into the strainer, then into the pan, pouring sauce over the top. A hot sizzling aroma filled the kitchen. Nicky breathed in deep, got a small, triumphant grin.

Within a few minutes a wooden spoon was being blown on and held to his mouth. He took a hesitant lick.

“Shit, that's fantastic.” Mark blushed a little, going back to turn the stove off. “You're a fucking genius.”

“It's just from a packet...” Plates were produced. Nicky was handed a full one and a fork. Mark scattered a handful of parmesan cheese on top then left him to it, wandering over to the couch and sinking down in front of the telly.

“Thanks.” Nicky sank down next to him. Mark nodded, already absorbed in the TV.

 

*

 

“So where's Nicky?”

“At work.” Mark yawned, resting his feet up on the edge of the bath. Nicky had gone out a while before, trudging from the flat in his supermarket uniform. Mark had locked the door, had a quick tidy, cleaned up the plates from dinner, and had just started running the water when the phone had rung.

He scooped up a handful of water, watching it trickle between his fingers and back into the soapy murk.

“How's your bath?”

“Wet.” There was an affectionate laugh on the other end. He smirked back. “He says it's fine to come down this weekend.”

“Well, I'm glad to have his permission.”

“I didn't mean it like that. I was just being polite.”

“Sorry.” Kian sighed, sounding less accusing than he had a moment before. “I'm just stressed. I'm being bitchy.”

“Stressed about what?”

“Just... you know. Assignments. All that sort of crap. I had an argument with Shane the other day and like... things are fine and everything, but it just pissed me off. And I miss you.”

“Obviously.” Mark held the phone a little closer to his ear, wishing he could feel Kian through the earpiece. It hadn't felt so awful, not seeing Kian, but now that he was coming down in a few days Mark could feel the distance more starkly. “What did you fight with Shane about?”

“Nothing really. Just stupid shit, you know? Like, he keeps cleaning up after me and I can't bloody find anything because the moment I put it down it's been tidied.” Mark chuckled. That did sound like Shane. He'd always been a neat freak and while Mark didn't mind it from a distance it could be seriously irritating for long stretches. Whenever he put a cup down on the coffee table instead of taking it to the sink he could feel eyes on him.

“Agent Filan of the Cleaning Brigade?”

“Agent Filan, infiltrating the evil league of dust bunnies.”

“Watch out, mould, Agent Filan has the Pledge and he's not afraid to use it.” Mark laughed. It was an old joke, one they'd been telling for damn near a decade. He knew Nicky didn't get it, but that was half the reason they'd stayed together so long despite the distance. He couldn't imagine a life without Kian in it, that extraordinary comfort of someone you knew so well, who knew you in return. They'd only been dating two and a half years, but he'd known Kian a lifetime.

“Love you,” Kian said.

“Love you too.”

“Shane's driving me bonkers.”

“So come live here then.”

“You come home,” Kian retorted. “We can be messy bastards together.”

“Yeah, okay.” Mark rolled his eyes. Kian chuckled. “Can't wait to see you.”

“Ditto.” Kian sighed. “So... in the bath, are ye?” His voice went a little lower, deep and intimate. Mark smirked, reaching down through the water, knowing exactly where this was going. “What you doing in there?”

“Getting clean?”

“Well, that's no good.” They both giggled. They hadn't done the phone sex thing much at first. It had all been a bit weird and awkward, but needs must and eventually they'd bitten the bullet during exams the year before when they hadn't been able to see each other for almost two months. They still didn't do it often, but every now and then it was nice. “God, I miss your cock...”

“Kian...” He bit his lip, hand moving a little lower. “Where are you?”

“On my bed.” He heard the unmistakable sound of a fly being unzipped, then a soft moan. He closed his eyes, felt himself throb, harden in the warm water. “Oh...”

“Ki...” He gulped, arching a little to get into a better position. “You touching yourself?”

“Yes.” There was a soft hiss, aborted by what he assumed was a bitten lip. It was a lovely image, Kian spread out on his bed, one arm behind his head and the other delving into his boxers. “Ah...”

“Fuck.” He tightened his grip, let out his own moan. Filling his hand and listening to Kian pant softly, the solid pump of flesh on flesh. “Mm...”

“Marky...” It was a breath. Mark wondered if Shane was in the house. He didn't much care. Was just glad Nicky was out. He curled two fingers lower, pressed them against his entrance. Just slight, screwing pressure to ease things along, not going in. Kian let out a soft, gulping cry. He echoed it.

“What are you doing?”

“F... fingering myself.” Kian whispered. Mark's eyes squeezed tighter, a roll of lust taking him over. “Wish it was you.”

“Wish...” He jerked at the brush of his own fingers on sensitive nerves. “God, are you really?”

“Yeah.” Kian gasped, whimpered. “Yeah. I... Fuck, Mark.” Mark sped up, trying to concentrate. Heard the front door open. Too early, Nicky shouldn't be home yet. It _was_ Nicky, though. He heard the key turn in the lock. Couldn't think about that right now. “I... I bought a vibrator. Use it when I... when I think of...”

“Oh, Jesus.” He gulped. He could hear Nicky calling his name. “In here Nicky!” he called out. “Won't be long!” Heard Kian bark out a laugh on the other end. “What are you doing now?” he urged.

“I'm... oh fuck fuck fuck...” A sudden harsh gasp. Mark groaned, hand speeding up, trying to concentrate past the noise of Nicky banging around the flat. “Mark. Close. Oh god...” He cried out.

The bathroom door banged open.

It was too bloody late to freeze. Nicky was stood there, a trembling scowl on his face, and Mark was coming in the bathtub, Kian's soft cries obscenely loud in his ear while he spilled over his own hand, twitching and groaning in the soapy water.

The door slammed shut again.

Mark groaned. Kian was making breathy, spent gasps against his ear, quiet moans. Mark said he loved him, wished him a good night as quickly as he could. Face flaming with embarrassment, head addled with orgasm, he stood up, washed off quickly under the shower, and wrapped himself in a robe, going to investigate.

 

*

 

“Nicky!” Mark sounded pissed off. Nicky could absolutely understand that. After what he'd just walked in on, that was totally fair. It was something they'd probably be laughing about in a few weeks.

He couldn't think how to laugh, not now.

“What the hell did you think you were...” Mark stopped in his tracks. Nicky sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. Mark sank to his knees a moment later, hands gathering his up. “What happened?”

“I...” Nicky gulped, sucking back the sudden surge of anger and despair. “They sacked me.”

“Oh no...” Mark breathed. Nicky felt himself crumble, felt arms wrap around him. Mark was probably naked under the robe, but after what he'd just seen it wasn't a priority. He laid his head on a broad shoulder, fingers digging into his friend's back while he was held close. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just... they're cutting back on the casual staff and... and you know, I'm not... I'm expendable. So...”

“Nicky...” Mark hugged him tighter. “Shit, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“It's fine. I'll... I'll get another job or something, right? Like...” He shook his head. “I don't fucking know.” He couldn't explain it, the complete enraged desperation. It wasn't fucking _fair_. He worked his arse off and... and...

“It's not fair,” Mark murmured. Nicky nodded, pulled back a little, wiping away the fresh tears. A hand cupped his cheek. He turned into it, not caring that it was a lad touching him, just wanting comfort from his best friend. “I'll make you a cup of tea, alright? We can talk about it.”

Nicky nodded, letting out a slow, shuddering breath. Mark kissed his forehead.

“Sorry,” Nicky whispered. “I'll find another one as soon as I can. I won't stick you with...”

“We'll figure it out,” Mark agreed. He was kissed again. Then Mark stood up, letting go. “Don't worry, okay?”

Nicky nodded, wondering how he could possibly do that.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Kian was here. It was nice that Kian was here. Mark certainly looked happy, at least, fussing around and getting lunch and leaning over to kiss him every five seconds. Nicky had arrived home from job hunting to find the two of them snuggled up on the couch, looking tired and besotted, and had just been glad he hadn't been home for the reunion, because Mark's bedroom smelled unmistakably of sex no matter how much lavender air freshener he'd sprayed around.

“How's the job hunt going?”

“Not sure yet.” Mark had apparently told Kian about him losing his job, though Nicky couldn't say he was entirely surprised. Mark told Kian bloody everything. “I've been handing out resumes like party favours.”

“It's a real shame.” Kian nodded. “And they didn't give you a reason, or?”

“Not really.” They'd said a lot of things, Nicky sitting in the tiny office beside the lunchroom and trying not to cry or throw a punch while they'd basically broken up with him. It's not you, it's us. If things were different, maybe.

“Did they pay you out or anything?”

“No.” Nicky sighed. He was just casual, they could ditch him without notice if they wanted. He'd been angling for part-time for a while, but the hours had been good enough and he'd just sort of rolled with it.

“Are you going to be okay, then? Like with rent and stuff?”

“Ki, leave him alone, honey.” Mark murmured, a hand gently squeezing his boyfriend's shoulder over the back of the couch, his other hand gripping a wooden spoon. Kian looked like he wanted to say more, but then shut his mouth. Nicky looked away. He didn't feel like having this conversation. Not with Kian of all people, who always looked at their flat in total disdain and acted like having a degree was the only way to bloody succeed in life.

“Maybe you could go back to college?”

“No, thank you,” Nicky managed grimly. Mark was shooting him apologetic looks from the kitchen. “It's fine. I just need to figure something else out. Got a little bit in savings so I'll be okay for a few weeks at least.”

“We'll be fine,” Mark announced. Nicky nodded. He wasn't doing college, not again. He'd tried it briefly, had done the first two semesters of a business degree out of some sort of unspoken obligation to his family. He'd dropped out without much ado, just dumped it halfway through exams and not gone back. It wasn't for him. He bloody knew that now.

He'd thought about maybe applying for the Garda. Maybe doing a trade or something like his old man. He'd thought about a lot of things.

“Well, if things don't work out you can always come home...”

“Thank you, Kian.” The annoyed look on Mark's face was a little gratifying. “I'm good here.”

“I'm not saying... you know, just the offer's open and..."

“I know,” Mark sighed. He handed Kian a bowl. “Eat that.”

“Thanks.” Kian stabbed a fork into the lasagne. Nicky took his bowl too. None of the bowls matched, but he was a bit pleased to see he'd gotten the slightly bigger one. Because you had to take small victories where you could.

Mark sank down between them, hand falling gently to Kian's knee and squeezing. Nicky took a bite of his food, staring blankly into his bowl.

 

*

 

“What do you want to do today?” Mark murmured. It was early in the morning, only five or so. He'd been sleeping rather happily, Kian spooned to his front, and then one of them had moved, or both had, and they'd woken up grinding clumsily into Kian's arse, kissing before Mark even knew he was really awake, Kian making soft whimpers and hands moving slowly. It had been careful, and sleepy, and impossibly comfortable, Kian coming with a breathy moan, Mark wrapped around him and mouthing at his nape.

“Don't mind.” Kian was nestled into his chest now, Mark laid on his back while his fingers drifted through blonde hair. “Stay here with you.”

“You don't want to go anywhere? See Dublin?”

“Has it changed since last time?” Kian yawned. Mark shrugged. “I'm not fussed, babe. If you want to go out we can. I'm happy here.” Mark closed his eyes, falling into silence while fingers gently stroked over his stomach and around his navel, back up again to circle through the hair on his chest.

Last night had been low-key, sitting in watching TV on the couch. Kian and Nicky had loosened up a bit. They tended to do that, always looked on their guard at first before relaxing into each other's presence, like two cats circling each other, sizing each other up until they could dismiss each other as not actually a threat. Mark didn't know exactly what the threat was supposed to be, but he supposed it was just a personality clash. It was bloody frustrating.

He got it, he supposed. Nicky was competitive at the best of times, always took things far too seriously. It was what Mark sort of liked about him. He was passionate about things. About the football, his family, always egging other people on and cheering when they succeeded.

Kian was the same, he supposed, just in a different way. It had always been easy for him, his life mapped out and everything slotting into place. Always a success before he even started and Mark supposed that was where it came from, that slight condescension, like if it had worked out that easily for him than other people must just be doing something wrong.

Nicky... Mark felt like maybe there was a purpose there, something he hadn't quite figured out yet, but damned if he knew what it was. Nicky probably didn't know either, which was why he wasted himself on shitty jobs where he was treated as expendable.

He could hear Nicky moving around now. The squeak of the bedsprings, the toilet flushing.

“Morning, Nicky!” Kian called out. Mark snorted, snuffling into his neck.

“Morning, Kian!” Nicky called back. “You want coffee?”

“Yes please!”

“Mark?”

“Thanks, Nicky!”

Kian laughed softly, rolling over to snuggle into Mark's neck.

“We woke him up, didn't we?”

“Probably,” Mark snorted. “He can hear us through the wall.” He heard Kian groan, saw a pink blush spill into soft cheeks. They both giggled, heard the kettle go on in the kitchen. Hands slid into his and squeezed tight. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

 

*

 

Kian went home on Sunday night. By Friday night Mark was looking wistful again. It was a little bit irritating, watching him swoon around the place like bloody Juliet or something. Nicky had heard them a few times through the wall, and if Mark knew he was pretending not to, just like Nicky was pretending not to have heard.

Whatever they'd been doing, apparently Mark was bloody good at it. Kian had been squealing like a pig there at the end.

“There's a few jobs online...” Mark was sitting on the other end of the couch with his laptop while Nicky looked through the paper. “You want me to apply for you?”

“Yes please.” Nicky sighed. “Anything that doesn't need experience.” Mark nodded, bending back over the keyboard.

“Rent's due Monday.”

“I know.” Nicky flopped back, caught a sympathetic glance. “Maybe I can pawn something, get a loan. I don't know.”

“Can your parents help?”

“Probably, but I'm not asking them for money.” He loved his family. They were gorgeous, loving, caring people and he'd taken enough from them already. He couldn't do it, go home and mention that things hadn't worked out. That he was bloody home again. Last time had been for six months and the worst part was that they didn't mind. Not at all.

Nicky minded.

“I'll go hunting again tomorrow.”

“I've got work, but I can keep an eye out? Maybe there'll be something on the bulletin board?”

“Thanks.” Nicky sat up, groaning slightly. “This is fucked.”

“Well, there's always gay porn,” Mark chuckled. The card was still stuck to the fridge. Mark had stuck it there as a joke, kept giggling to himself whenever he walked past it. It was pretty funny, Nicky supposed. And hell, maybe if things got worse...

Which was ridiculous, of course.

“I'd have to be gay first.”

“Like it's ever stopped anyone.” Mark looked up from the laptop. “Guaranteed that at least half the lads online aren't gay. It's... you know... gay for pay.”

“There's a word for it?” Nicky shook his head. “You homosexuals. There's a word for everything.”

“I think that's the Germans.”

“Same thing.” Nicky grimaced. Mark laughed. “I just don't think I could do it, you know? Like, fair play to you, but... I just don't get... the mechanics of it.”

“Do I need to explain gay sex to you?” Mark raised an eyebrow.

“No, I mean, I get the... the bits and where they go, I just don't know how...” Nicky laughed. “Like, if I have to take a massive shit or something I'm sitting there straining for ten minutes. It's not fucking erotic, is it?"

Mark started laughing. Nicky did too, unable to help it. His friend was shaking his head, covering his mouth to keep the giggles back. It was a bit gorgeous, watching Mark laugh. He always looked so serious, but when he was like this his eyes went all crinkly and there was an awkward, horsey grin that looked like it was splitting him in two.

“It's not like taking a shit,” Mark chuckled when he'd calmed himself down a bit. Nicky was still blushing on the other end of the couch. “Like, we wouldn't do it if it wasn't good.”

“Right, well... that aside, there's a dick in your mouth, isn't there? Like...”

“There's minge in yours,” Mark shot back. Nicky pulled a face.

“That's different.”

“Why?”

“Because it's... you know. It's pretty and that, isn't it? Like it's all...” Nicky gestured, trying to explain. Mark was still staring at him. “And it smells good and that. Most of them, anyway. And it feels all like... soft and...” He gestured, feeling bloody useless. “I need to get laid.”

“Apparently.” Mark smirked. “You'd never try it, then?”

“With a lad? Maybe I'd snog one if I was really drunk, but fuck one? I don't think so. Would you shag a girl?”

“I have shagged a girl.”

“Fucking really?” Nicky's mouth dropped open in shock. That one he hadn't expected. Mark was shrugging, looking a little embarrassed by the revelation. He was a pretty private person, didn't talk much about his actual sex life. Nicky didn't think he'd even seen him properly naked until the other night, which they specifically hadn't mentioned since.

“Yeah. I mean like... you know. Back when I was still figuring myself out. I suspected I was gay, I guess, but you... you get a bit drunk at a party and you're not out or anything and you figure... might as well give it a go.”

“You shagged a girl.” Nicky crossed his arms, wanting all the information now. “Details?”

“I don't know. She was a girl. We had sex.”

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen?”

“Who was she? What was it like? Did you like... keep it up and that?”

“I did.” Mark laughed. “She was just some girl.”

“But like... you're gay. How did you...”

“I like boys, Nicky, I'm not allergic to girls. I don't like... break out in hives if I touch a boob.” Nicky giggled uncomfortably. “She was nice, we had sex. She went down on me, I went down on her, we fucked in some lad from school's spare bedroom during a party.”

“I am aghast.”

“Okay.”

“You went down on her?”

“Sure. Seemed fair.”

“Did you... did you make her come, or?”

“I think so.” Mark shrugged. “I mean, I was pretty stupid and inexperienced and that, but she seemed to enjoy it from what I can remember. She did half the job with her fingers anyway.” He was blushing properly now. Nicky couldn't stop shaking his head. “It was fine.”

“I don't...” Nicky shook his head. “Is that the only girl you've shagged?”

“No.” Mark bit his lip, going redder. “Went out with another girl for a few weeks after that. We did it... twice? Three times?”

“No way.”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbled. “What, how many girls have you slept with?”

He bit his lip, trying to think.

“My highschool girlfriend, Georgina...” That had been three rather nice years of having it on tap. They'd waited six months after they'd gotten together, too young and her not feeling ready for it. Then when they'd drifted apart after highschool... “Maybe ten or eleven, I guess? I don't know. There was that lass I was dating last year. We stayed together for a bit. Then she cheated on me.”

“Bitch.”

“I cheated on her too.”

“Bastard.” Mark smirked. “With who?”

“I don't know. I was drunk.” Nicky yawned. “How many lads have you slept with then?”

“Four.” Mark looked away, still pink. “Kian was my first. Not like... we weren't together or anything, but we hadn't come out and we were friends and we sort of... well, we figured who else, right? We both tried to date after that and in the end we sort of drifted back together again.”

“What, like, 'he'll do'?”

“No, more like... like gravity.” Mark smiled. “Meant to be, sort of thing.”

“That's disgustingly romantic.” Nicky smirked. “I'm proud of you.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“You're welcome.” There was a sudden pop, and the room was plunged into darkness. “Oh, for fuck's sake!”

There was a square of light reflecting from the screen of Mark's laptop, bathing his face in a disconcerting white glow. Nicky stared at him for a long minute, watching it light up the tiny lines beside his eyes, the streaks of darkness painting his cheeks. Mark smiled and poked him gently with a foot.

“Your turn.”

Nicky sighed and went to grab the keys.

 

*

 

“That's...” Mark counted through the small mound of change on the kitchen counter, Nicky stood beside him with a bitten lip. They'd emptied the change jar, the one they'd been slowly adding to since Mark had moved in. A euro here, a cent there. It was mostly gold and bronze, but there were a few silvers in there too. “One hundred and thirteen... one hundred and seventeen...”

“Is it enough?”

“Um...” Mark squinted, looking at the bill in Nicky's hand. “Seventeen euro short.”

“Shit,” Nicky groaned. Mark winced in sympathy. Four weeks and he still hadn't found anything. Had handed out hundreds of resumes, applied for loads of jobs online, and only managed six interviews. None of them seemed to be interested.

“Okay.” Mark headed for the bedroom. He really hadn't wanted to do this, but desperate times and all that. When he came back Nicky was stood at the counter, head in his hands.

“Seventeen euro.” Mark dropped two notes and a coin into the pile.

“Where did you get that from?”

“Christmas fund,” Mark sighed. “It's fine. I'll make it back in tips.”

“Mark...” He saw Nicky's lower lip tremble. “No.”

“We don't have much choice.” Mark shrugged, knowing it was true. The power bill was looming and they needed to get the rent out of the way before then. Water bill was coming up again too.

“No.” Nicky scooped it up, shoved it back into his hands. Mark's hands closed around it. “Just... I'll get my JB in a couple of days. I'll sort it then.”

“It'll be overdue by then,” Mark argued. Nicky had applied for the Jobseeker's Benefit the week before, but it was still not very much, not when his previous job hadn't exactly been a money-earner. “Then you'll just have to pay more on late fees.”

Nicky sank down at the table, head in his hands. Mark sighed, crouching down next to him.

“I'm sorry, Nicky. You'll find something soon.”

“Yeah.” Nicky sniffed. Mark wasn't saying it, though. That if this kept up he'd probably have to find somewhere else to live. He was only getting a few shifts a week himself and they'd been scraping by before.

Kian kept saying it. This wasn't his life. This was Nicky's. Nicky was the one with no plan. This was a temporary lodging while Mark finished his studies and got a better job, until he and Kian got on with whatever the hell the grand plan was going to be, being grown-up and successful together.

“I'm so sorry.”

“It's fine.” Mark pulled him into a hug. “We'll figure it out.”

“Maybe I should just move back in with my parents. You can go back to the halls or...”

“No,” Mark murmured. “We're not going to do that.”

 

*

 

“Dinner,” Nicky announced, handing Mark a bowl of rice. The other boy was completely absorbed in a textbook, pen out and scribbling down notes. The bowl of rice went into his lap, his other hand fumbling a spoonful into his mouth.

“Thanks.” Mark swallowed. “What did you put in this?”

“Chicken stock cube and some sesame oil.”

“You're learning.” He got a fond smile that just about made the sinking guilt in his stomach feel light.

“That was the last of the rice.”

“I know.” Mark took another bite. “Still have half a bag of pasta.”

“I'm going to get scurvy if I don't have some fruit and veg soon.”

“Maybe that's a job you could apply for. Pirate. Adventure. High seas. Looting and pillaging.”

“I'm a terrible swimmer.”

“Oh well.” Mark was looking fed up, though. Nicky could see it. In all of this he thought that was the part he was most frightened of. The humiliation of having to go home again was definitely up there, having to give up again and feel like a total disappointment, but the worst would be saying goodbye to Mark. His best damn friend. And not just that, but letting him down. Taking the wide-eyed optimism he'd had when he'd bounced in here that first day and dashing it to pieces.

Mark?”

“Yeah?”

“You're my best friend.”

“Ditto.” Mark smiled, looking up.

“If... if you need to leave or something I won't blame you.”

“Fuck off.” Mark took another bite of his rice. “Don't be an idiot.”

Nicky went to grab a drink, lump settling hard in his throat. When he shut the fridge again, his eyes caught the card on the door.

GayLadsXXX.com

He swallowed hard, turning away.

 

*

 

Mark tipped out the rest of his Christmas fund, his stomach sinking. Nicky was out, had been out all day. Mark thought he might be a little annoyed if Nicky wasn't trying, but he was. Was trying his arse off.

The bill was due the next day. Nicky didn't have his share. Mark knew he didn't. Nicky knew it too, from the thunderous look that had been on his face all day, the soft, angry sobbing Mark had heard from the bedroom next door. Nicky had been looking miserable for weeks. Over a month since he'd lost his job and things weren't getting any better. Not at all.

Mark had thought about asking his parents for money but couldn't make himself do it. Not this year. Kian kept offering but he didn't want to do that either. Nicky wouldn't thank him. Not for a moment.

They had to do bloody something, though. There was no food in the fridge, and he couldn't keep living off noodles. Nicky didn't get a staff discount any more, and god knew there were no more free samples of sauce.

He put all the money in a pile, counted it, stuffed it in his wallet, and headed down to the post office to pay it.

The walk took forty-five minutes. He couldn't afford the bus fare, not when he still had to get to uni the next day.

 

*

 

“I'm sorry, Ki.” Mark was on the phone when Nicky got in, curled up on the sofa and looking miserable. His books were scattered in front of him. He'd been looking more tired lately, had been taking more shifts at the restaurant and been up all hours studying. They'd gotten ahead a little, had at least paid the bills. There was nothing in the fridge, though. Not for the last few days. “I know. I was... yeah. I just... I have to take a few more shifts this weekend. And I can't really afford the train fare...” He swallowed hard. “Yeah. No, maybe next weekend. I... I know. No, please don't. I don't want you to...”

He sighed hard. Nicky did the same.

“Please don't.” Mark adjusted the phone. “I know you can afford it, but...” Nicky felt his heart drop. Kian was offering Mark money now? Wasn't that just the worst fucking feeling in the world. “No, babe, I know, but...” He bit his lip.

Nicky went to put the kettle on.

 

*

 

“Are we boring you, Mr Feehily?”

Mark looked up. He'd been yawning. Knew he had. He'd been bussing tables until almost midnight, been up at five to make it to an early lecture. Now it was past three in the afternoon and he was flagging badly, knew he had to be back at work at six.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying to look a bit more awake. His professor rolled his eyes, looking away. Which was the last thing he needed. The guy was only responsible for his bloody work placement, was absolutely not someone he should be pissing off. He only had nine months of school left anyway, really needed to start thinking about his career options. It had all seemed like such a good idea at the time, but the real world was starting to loom and he was fairly sure he had no idea what to do when he got out in it.

He still had his savings, he supposed, but that was emergency money. _Emergency_ , emergency.

Not yet. He could hold off for a little longer. Nicky would find a job by then.

 

*

 

“I'm sorry. We really don't have anything going right now.”

Nicky thanked the girl behind the register, slumping back out of the store. He had no interest in fishing and camping supplies, but then he hadn't been interested in half the other places he'd applied at either.

Mark was going to be disappointed.

Nicky felt awful. He'd called his parents, just to see if maybe they could loan him something to get them through the month, but then his mother had picked up all cheerful and proud and he hadn't been able to do it. Had listened to her fuss and ask how his job was. He'd said it was fine. She said he was lucky to have one. Things had been really tight lately with his dad's work and there'd been layoffs. They were just glad that his father hadn't been on that list. Yet.

He knew Mark had called his parents, asked for a small loan. They'd sent him a little, just to get them through the last lot of rent. There were bills looming again, marched across the fridge and the dates getting closer and closer as the days passed in a blur of resumes and rejection. Mark couldn't ask for more. Not again. His brother had just been sent on a school trip and they didn't really have the money, even though they hadn't said that in so many words.

Nicky turned in at the Burger King, already fishing for his resume.

 

*

 

“Just come home, babe,” Kian sighed. “You can switch your course or something. Come live with me and Shane. He won't mind.”

“You know I can't.” Mark felt his stomach twist, misery and anger fighting for space. He was sick of having this argument. “They don't offer Social Work there.”

“You don't even like doing it. You're always complaining.”

“You're always complaining about yours. It doesn't mean you should just give up,” Mark shot back, heard an offended grunt on the other end. “I'm not moving back home, Ki. I'm not...” He took a deep breath to calm himself, let it out slowly. Heard Kian do the same.

“Fine.” Kian's voice was flat. “Look, I don't know why you're doing it. You're not the one who got sacked.”

“He's my best friend.”

“ _I'm_ your best friend.”

“Are you?” Mark scowled. “How about being supportive instead of telling me just to give up all the time? I'd never ask you to dump your scholarship. I wouldn't...”

“Just because I want to see you all the time doesn't mean...”

“So move down here then,” Mark retorted, Kian went silent, breathing slowly on the other end. “Move in with me and Nicky, help us pay our rent, and stop trying to...” He swallowed, trembling to a halt. “Just... leave it, Kian. Okay?”

“I can send you money.”

“No.” Mark ended the call, hand shaking on the phone. He dropped it on the table and sank down on the couch, hugging himself with both arms, feeling a lump settle hard in his throat. Kian didn't get it. He was always Kian's boyfriend, all the time. The last thing he needed was to owe him something. To feel like Kian had bailed him out. It was what partners were supposed to do, probably, but he knew already. Knew that it would always be a thing Kian had done for him. A handout. And he couldn't...

He got slowly back to his feet, heading over to the fridge. Internet, gas, water, rent. Almost eight-hundred all up. He'd thought about ditching the internet but he was contracted for another six months and the cancellation fee would be worse, not to mention he needed it for school.

Two were due in the next three days. Even if Nicky had a job by then he'd never have his first paycheck in time.

Mark swallowed hard and sat back down, looking blankly at his textbook.

 

*

 

“I'm really sorry,” Nicky murmured. Mark shook his head, taking a bite of his apple. Nicky had managed to afford some meagre groceries on his Jobless Benefit, had brought them triumphantly home to find Mark sitting on the couch after a fight with Kian, looking pale and really upset.

“It's fine. He's being a tit.”

“He's trying to help.”

“He's trying to...” Mark sighed, shaking his head. Nicky knew what Kian was trying to do, and both options benefited him. Either Mark would come home, or Mark would accept a favour, and Nicky knew those were the last things Mark wanted to do. Kian loved him, it was obvious, but Nicky could see Mark getting frustrated with being condescended to. The long-distance thing was already stressful enough and this wasn't helping in the slightest.

“He loves you.”

“Yeah.” Mark looked down at his hands. “Thanks for getting...”

“It's okay.” He hadn't gotten much, just some basic fruit and veg, more noodles, and some cheap teabags and powdered milk. It was all a bit depressing. “Still got about sixty left to put towards the bills.”

“Yeah.” Mark ran a hand over his face, blinking hard like he was trying to bat away tears. “Maybe...” He hesitated, breathing out slowly. Nicky felt his heart lurch. “Maybe I should just go back home.”

“Do you want to?”

“No. God.” Full red lips were bitten, trembling under crooked teeth. “Okay. Plan B.”

“What's Plan B?”

“Not sure yet” Mark admitted. “But it has to be better than Plan A.”

 

*

 

Mark patted his pocket, checking his wallet was still there. He'd been doing it obsessively the whole trip back from the corner store ATM, desperately paranoid that it had been picked or fallen out somewhere. That was madness, obviously, but he didn't think he'd ever had this much money in one place.

He ran up the stairs, locking the door behind him. Then his wallet was out and he was looking at it all. Seven hundred and sixty euro. All his savings, there in front of him. There had been seventy-nine cents left in his balance when he'd withdrawn it. It had blinked at him hopelessly on the screen as notes had thunked mechanically into the tray.

Plan B it was.

He started matching them up to bills, was halfway through when he got a call.

Would he like to come in for an extra shift in half an hour?

He'd bloody love to.

He quickly separated the money, pinned it to the fridge with the appropriate bill, and grabbed his empty wallet again.

It'd have to wait.

 

*

 

The door swung open too easily when Nicky got home, a sick rattle coming from the lock.

He stepped inside.

The TV was gone.

He put his hand over his mouth in shock, staring around at the flat.

The kettle was gone too.

The toaster.

His alarm clock.

All his jewellery.

Mark's DVDs.

Mark's fucking _laptop_.

When Mark got home Nicky was sat on the couch while two police officers took photos of the flat. Blue eyes widened in confusion, looking at Nicky for answers he couldn't give.

The police asked if there was anything else they'd noticed missing.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Right.” Mark kept saying it, as though his next sentence was going to be the obvious solution to all their problems. He bit his lip, looking down at the grass. “Right, so.”

“Yeah.” They'd gone to the park, found a spare bench to sit on. It was too hard being in the flat, looking around at the bare spots where all their shit should have been and trying not to cry. Last night had been hell. He'd ended up climbing into bed with Mark around one in the morning, hadn't been able to sleep and had just needed a hug. Mark hadn't been asleep either. So they'd laid there together until dawn, both staring at the ceiling.

Mark had held his hand.

“I should have checked the lock...”

“It was locked,” Nicky assured him. Mark nodded, eyes filling with tears. The thieves had jimmied the deadbolt off with a crowbar. Nicky wondered why nobody had heard, and then realised they probably had. It was a pretty terrible area, after all. You heard fights all the time, people shouting drunkenly at each other, things smashing, and Nicky thought he'd only called Triple 9 twice himself. When a woman was _really_ screaming upstairs and had been for a while, and once when he'd smelled smoke. And not the usual pot and cigarettes they usually smelled.

“I can't believe it.” Mark bit his lip. “I can't...”

“I'm so sorry.”

Mark shook his head.

“Wasn't your fault. They would have taken everything anyway. I just...” He swallowed hard. “That was everything, you know? All my savings. Everything. My laptop. Like, I can't even afford another one and I still have to pay for the internet. How fucked up is...” He blinked away tears. “My parents bought it for me when I moved here. All my assignments...”

“I know.” Nicky leaned over, pulling him into a hug. “I'm so sorry. If the fucking landlord bills us for a new lock...”

“He probably will, though. You know what he's like.” Mark leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands. Nicky put a hand on his back in an attempt at comfort. Mark was tense. He let it drift, stroking across broad shoulders and down his spine. Heard a harrumphing little laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Mark sighed. “Kian always does that when I'm pissed off.”

“What, this?” He ran his hand back up, squeezing gently in the back of his neck. Felt a little shiver.

“Yeah. I mean, usually we're naked, but...”

“I don't offer that sort of service,” Nicky teased. “Want me to keep doing it?”

“Yeah.” He watched Mark lean his face into his hands, felt him sink slightly as he let out a slow breath. “Fuck, I miss him.”

“I'm sorry.” It had to have been almost two months since Mark had seen Kian. Since Nicky had lost his job. They talked on the phone a lot, but Nicky knew it wasn't the same. Mark usually coped alright, but... “Maybe he can come visit you?”

“Yeah. I'll...” Mark shivered when Nicky dug his thumb into a tense spot in his shoulder. “I don't know. Maybe it's time to go home. We're going to get evicted anyway if we can't sort out the rent. And by then we'll have starved to death in the dark with no water, so there's that to look forward to.”

“We can try for an extension. There'll be second warnings and that.”

“And late fees.”

“Yeah,” Nicky sighed. A hand reached back, slid into his where it was making slow circles on his nape. When it squeezed tight Nicky wanted to to cry.

 

*

 

“Mark. Pay attention.”

“Sorry.” He shook his head to clear it, glanced down at the tray of dirty dishes he was holding. He was barely awake. Hadn't been able to sleep for the last three days, kept waking up thinking there was someone in the flat. Not that there was anything left for them to take. He'd had to go speak to his professors, explain why he couldn't have his assignments in on time. They'd all been fairly nice about it, but even with the extension he didn't know if he'd be able to catch up. He didn't have time to research everything again, type it all up again, not when he was pulling double shifts and still trying to make it to classes.

It was three in the morning. He didn't get off until almost ten. Then he had a lecture.

He wondered what Nicky was doing.

 

*

 

Nicky woke at five, did a quick tidy of the flat, and was heading into the city by seven, a stack of resumes in his bag. Mark was still at work and he popped in to say hello, got an exhausted smile in return. He looked terrible, deep bags under his eyes and a slight tremble on his mouth when Nicky asked if he was okay.

Mark said he was.

Nicky didn't believe him.

By noon he only had a few resumes left. He dropped the last ones off at a few coffee shops and then headed home, checking his phone every few minutes just in case there was a call. There wasn't. There never bloody was.

He grabbed an apple from the fridge, leaning against the kitchen counter to eat it. There was nothing to do. No TV to watch, no computer to play on. Mark's books were all boring and he'd read all of his own.

Staring into space seemed like a valid enough timewaster, so he did that, leaned in the kitchen and wishing he could afford to eat another apple.

GayLadsXXX.com.

He stared at it.

Swallowed hard.

Then he grabbed it off the fridge and headed for the door again, stuffing it in his pocket.

 

*

 

The office was much smaller and less gaudy than Nicky had expected. He didn't know what he'd expected really. He'd found the address, ended up in a neat reception area that looked more like it belonged in a dentist's office, showed the receptionist the pamphlet and explained what he was after, and been directed down here.

A man came in. Fairly normal looking guy, middle-aged with prematurely white hair. Nicky shook his hand. Louis. He explained that they were fairly new on the scene, were still looking for models for their videos and blog. He asked what Nicky wanted, what he was interested in.

Nicky said he'd never done anything like this before.

Louis snorted a laugh, sounding totally unsurprised. Nicky felt his stomach twist.

“I just um... I sort of need the money right now, so...” He swallowed hard, trying to look eager. “I'll...” He took a deep breath, not able to believe he was saying this out loud. “I'll take it up the arse if I have to.”

“I hope you look more excited than that when it's happening,” Louis laughed. Nicky grimaced. “You're very pretty, lad, but I can find hundreds of boys who are very pretty. So unless you've got something else...”

“I... I'm not small.” Nicky winced. “Like, I'm erm... bigger than average if that helps?”

“How big?”

“Erm... like ten?” It was an ongoing joke. He was the shortest in the family, so god had made up for it in other ways. Like... ten hard and... six or so soft?”

“Show me.” Louis leaned back, crossing his arms.

“What, now?”

“When else?” A meaningful nod was directed at his groin. “Stand up. Let's see.”

“Um.” He did as he was told, wriggling down his jeans once the zip was undone. It all looked a bit pathetic now, soft and floppy in this rather staid office. “It gets bigger.”

“Of you go, then.”

“I...” Then he figured 'fuck it'. He was here, he needed the money, he was fucking grabbing this thing by the balls and going for it, so to speak. For the rent. For Mark.

He was about to jerk himself for Mark.

This was a weird way to spend an afternoon.

 

*

 

“Mark! Watch it!”

“Sorry.” He wanted to burst into tears. Light-headed, stomach twisting. Just in the last hour or so. Exhaustion, probably. Just had to get through the next hour. Then he could go home and sleep...

There was a crash. When he looked down he realised the tray had slipped from his arms.

He wobbled. Someone was swearing. Someone else was calling his name. A sarcastic round of applause started from one of the tables.

He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

 

*

 

Louis was actually a really nice guy, even if he did have a low tolerance for time-wasting. Once he watched Nicky get himself hard (which was the _weirdest_ fucking experience) he nodded, leaned back, crossed his arms, and said they could definitely work with that.

He asked if he'd have to shag a bloke.

Louis laughed, and said they could do some modelling shots first, if he wanted, like a camera test. See how he felt and how they turned out, then talk about some more work if it went well.

He said okay.

He could do that.

Fuck.

 

*

 

Mark left the hospital an hour later, a bit sore and more embarrassed than anything. They'd said he had a bit of a flu that had gone unchecked. That made sense. He'd been sniffly and headachey for a week or so but had just waved it off as a bit of a cold, not wanting to make anything of it. Now his chest was burning and he couldn't get a breath all the way in. They'd told him to stay in bed for a few days, get off his feet.

He wasn't sure how the hell he was meant to do that.

When he got home the flat was empty, so he climbed into bed. He thought about calling Kian, telling him what had happened, but he'd only fainted and he'd been perfectly fine to get a bus home, so it probably wasn't worth it. Kian would just get upset, and Mark didn't feel like upsetting him. He did sort of want to hear his voice, though.

He slept for two hours. When he woke up Nicky was still out, so he grabbed his phone and dialled Kian's number.

It went to voicemail.

He left a message. Just something basic. Hi, I'm thinking about you, I love you. Then he hung up and rolled back into the pillow, pulling the sheets up around his neck and closing his eyes.

 

*

 

This was... interesting.

The lights were bright. He was in a little room that wasn't quite a studio, not much bigger than their living room, perched on the edge of a table. He was still wearing what he'd had on when he'd come in, which made him wish he'd picked something a bit nicer. Still, at the time he'd been in a bit of a hurry, wanting to come down here without thinking about it, rip off the bandaid before he noticed he was doing it.

Louis asked him to take his shirt off. He did, shivering slightly.

They took a couple of shots. There was a photographer there, a nice enough guy in his late-twenties named Glenn, with dark olive skin and cornrows, who asked him to tilt his head, move his arm a bit. Nicky undid his own jeans and pushed a hand down there. He hadn't worn underwear, usually didn't, but it was okay. He felt awkward, sort of silly, but the blush went away quickly.

“Oh, that's nice,” Glenn said when Nicky tilted his chin down, looking up with a slight pout. “Hold that?” He did, licked his lips slightly to wet them. The camera went off. He wriggled his jeans down a little further.

After a few minutes he kicked his shoes off, took his jeans off as well, and _that_ was weird. He was just glad he'd given himself a trim. He was usually pretty tidy anyway, didn't want things catching in his fly when he was going commando.

“Can you get hard, love?” Glenn asked. Nicky blushed a little bit, trying to stroke himself, coax some movement. It wasn't too cold in here but he didn't exactly feel sexy. He closed his eyes, trying to think of what usually got him going, but his mind was a sudden blank.

“Alright?” Louis asked.

“Yeah.” Nicky opened his eyes. “I'm okay.” He tugged a little harder, got something going. The photographer was at his knees, the camera pointed up towards his face, and that really wasn't helping things. He winked, pursed his lips again and spread his legs a little, wondering if this was what gay lads liked or if he was just getting it horribly wrong.

“That'll do,” Louis said finally. Nicky looked up. “Not bad, lad.” He nodded at Nicky's clothes. “You can get dressed if you like.”

“Cheers.” He hopped down, reaching for his jeans. Tugged them back on gratefully. He'd never been all that self-conscious. He took care of himself, was pretty active, and was more or less pleased with what he saw in the mirror. People called him cute a lot. And shit, they'd given him the card so they must have seen something, whoever that fella had been. A scout or something, he didn't know. “It was alright?”

“Would you like to have a look?” Nicky nodded, wandering over to the computer in the corner and sinking down while the files uploaded.

“Shit, that's pretty good.” He was surprised. Louis pulled one up, the one of him licking his lips, chin tilted down and his hand down his jeans. “Cool. Um.” He watched another one come up, him holding his half-hard cock, wrist twisted a little to show he was moving his hand. It wasn't his scene at all, but the picture was certainly good. He wondered, idly, if Mark would like it if he saw it online, then slapped himself for thinking it. Still, Mark was the only gay guy he knew properly, so he was Nicky's reference for that sort of thing. It wasn't like there were other people he could show it to.

Not that he was showing Mark.

“So, what do you think?”

“I think they're good,” Louis said, clicking through. “If you're interested we're doing some photographic stuff next week. Softcore, no penetration. Bit of oral.” Nicky nodded. Oral. Okay, he could do that. He didn't know _how_ to do that, but he could do it, he supposed. He wasn't sure if he'd feel the same way when it was... in his face, but...

“Okay,” he decided. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Monday alright?” Nicky nodded. “We start at seven in the morning. We can provide wardrobe, so don't worry.” Nicky nodded again.

Louis gestured back to the monitor. Nicky blinked when he saw his face, eyes sultry and intense, peering down, his cock filling the rest of the screen.

“These are good,” Louis pointed out. “If you're interested in doing more I'm happy to have you on board. If your shots on Monday are useable I can offer you two hundred for the day.”

“Oh. Yes please.” Two hundred for a day's work? It was definitely a start. “I'll be here.”

“Brilliant. Well...” Louis nodded at the photographer, who was starting to pack up. “Come back to my office, okay? We'll go through some paperwork and get you signed up. You have a mailing address?” Nicky nodded. “Brilliant.” He smiled cheerfully. “Come with me.”

 

*

 

Mark woke to the sound of Nicky coming back into the flat, keys in the lock and the door creaking open, then shut again. When he shuffled out Nicky was in the kitchen, cobbling together a sandwich from the end crusts they had left and the last scraping of peanut butter in the jar.

“Hey,” Mark croaked. Nicky looked up in surprise.

“I thought you were at a class?”

“Yeah.” He coughed. Shit, the thing was really starting to set in now. His chest made a warning rattle when he tried to take in a deeper breath. “Sick.”

“Oh no...” Nicky's eyes softened. “You okay?”

“Flu.” He coughed again. Nicky backed away slightly. Mark covered his mouth. “I passed out at work. The doctor said I have to take a few days off.”

“You passed out?”

“I'm fine.” He sniffed. “Just feel a bit of an idiot.” Nicky was looking concerned, though. “S'okay. You might have a few missed calls, though.” Nicky dug in his pocket for his phone and peered at it.

“Sorry, I've had it on silent.” He peered at the screen. “Who's this private number?”

“Work.”

“They called me?”

“You're my emergency contact,” Mark explained.

“I am?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Who else would it be?”

“Kian?”

“Kian lives four hours away. I love him, but he's no use in an actual emergency.” Mark started to shuffle back out to the couch, settling down with a groan. “You're my best friend.” Nicky didn't reply. Mark pulled the blanket tighter, blushing slightly and wondering if that had sounded a bit weird and personal, if he'd assumed something. He hadn't thought about it at the time, though. It had been on the form and he'd just written down Nicky's name.

A sandwich appeared in front of him.

“Eat that. You're not well.”

“This is your sandwich.”

“You need it more than me.” A hand squeezed his shoulder. “And don't give it back. It's all germy now.”

“Thanks.” Mark took a grateful bite. “What about you?”

“I'll figure something out.” Nicky squeezed his shoulder again, then headed back to the kitchen. Mark heard the kettle go on. “Cup of tea?”

“Lemsip?”

“Sure.” Mark looked over his shoulder. Nicky's back was to him. Mark smiled fondly at it, despite not feeling well. Nicky was just turning around again when Mark's phone rang.

“Hey, Ki.”

“Hey, got your message.” Mark felt himself sag a little bit with relief when he heard his boyfriend's voice. He didn't want him to know about the hospital, didn't want the drama, but it was still nice to know he was there. “What's up?”

“Nothing much. Just wanted to say hi.”

“You sound terrible. You sick?”

“Just a cold.” He cleared his throat. “Nicky's taking care of me.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nicky smile. “I'll be okay in a couple of days.”

“What about work?”

“We'll be fine.” They wouldn't, but he didn't need Kian to know that. “What are you up to?”

“Dinner with my parents.” Mark could hear talking in the background. “They say hi.”

“Hi back.”

“Mam wants to know when you're coming round.”

“As soon as I can,” Mark promised. “I love you.”

“Love you.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” Kian paused. “Look, I've got a few days off coming up. How about I take you away? Book a hotel somewhere. Couple of days at the seaside?”

“I can't afford...”

“It's on me.”

“I can't miss work, Ki. It's...” Mark sighed, frustrated and wishing he could say yes. “It's not just the cost. I'd be missing out on wages.”

“You just said you'd be fine.”

“Babe...” He bit his lip. “I'll think about it, okay?”

“If you don't want to...”

“I'll think about it,” Mark promised. He would. About how guilty he'd feel when he eventually said no. But Kian sounded earnest and he just didn't get it. Understand how hard Mark was working just to keep everything going. How having Kian suggest things like they were all so easy was so hard to hear, because for Kian they _were_ easy. “I love you. I have to go."

“Okay. Well... I'll call you later, alright? See how you're feeling?”

“I'll probably have an early one,” Mark admitted. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” He could hear Kian's smile. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.” He hung up. Nicky handed him a steaming mug full of what looked like yellow piss. It was just hot water from the tap, all they had until they got a new kettle, unless they felt like spending ages boiling water on the stove. Mark sniffed it and pulled a face. He'd always hated this stuff. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just Kian.” He left it there. Nicky nodded sympathetically. “Hey, how was your day? Any luck?”

“Might have a couple of interviews,” Nicky said.

“Brilliant!” He squeezed Nicky's knee. “Let me know if there's anything I can do, okay? If you need anything?”

“Yeah.” Nicky gave him a weak smile. Mark smiled back. “Marky?”

“Yeah?”

“Um...” Nicky scratched his arm. “You're a good friend, you know? I'm sorry things have been shit.”

“It's alright.” Mark wanted to hug him, but he was too contagious and didn't want Nicky to get sick. Not if it looked like he might finally have some opportunities. “It'll be okay, you know? I've got a good feeling. You'll have something in no time.”

Nicky nodded silently and sipped his tea.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Waiting in line for his Jobseeker's Benefit was the most depressing part of Nicky's week. He stood there for forty-five minutes, watching other people shuffle ahead of him to the window and collect their own cheques. He'd applied for a Rent Allowance as well, but altogether it wasn't a huge amount. He took it straight to the supermarket and got some basics. It was Mark's second day off work but he'd be going back tomorrow, probably. He looked miserable, was not well, but they didn't really have a choice.

He got the rent paid - Mark had given him his half already – then headed back to the flat.

Mark was asleep in bed when he went in, snuggled up and breathing raspily into the pillow. Nicky smiled fondly and pulled the door closed again.

Then he sank down on the couch with the banana he'd bought from the supermarket.

He felt a bit ridiculous. Admittedly he was going to eat the thing eventually, but it was Friday, and on Monday he was going to have to work with something a bit less edible and a lot less delicious. He'd thought about doing this in front of a mirror and then decided he could live without it for a first try.

Okay.

He brought it up to his lips. He'd chopped the brown bits off either end, figured he didn't want to get anything stuck in his throat. It didn't make it look any better, though. He pulled his lips back and started to slide it in, figuring he could worry about technique later and just wanting to see if he could do this without gagging. It got about halfway in before he did, tickling the back of his throat and feeling way too big not to suffocate. He pulled it back out, staring at yellow skin shiny with spit.

He tried it again. It got a little further this time. He breathed through his nose, closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, tried to convince himself it wasn't that bad, actually. Girls could do it. Mark could probably do it. Not that he was asking Mark for help on this, god no, but if Mark could he could do it too. To a banana. To... a penis.

He pulled it out again. That had gone a little better. He didn't know if he could do it, though. To something warm and alive, leaking fluid maybe and pulsing on his tongue. He really hoped he didn't have to swallow because honestly his own cum had always grossed him out a little bit, though he wasn't averse to a girl swallowing, which was maybe a double standard but he wasn't _gay_ , dammit, so it was perfectly normal.

Perfectly... normal.

“What you doing?”

He looked up. Mark was stood in the doorway, blinking blearily, robe tied tight over thick flannel pyjamas. He yawned. Nicky swallowed.

“Um.” He looked down at the banana in his hand. “I got groceries.”

“Oh, cool. Do we have more bananas?”

“In the fridge.” Mark started to potter over to the kitchen. He came back with a banana of his own, sinking down in the other chair and starting to peel it. Nicky watched him take a bite. “Thanks, Nico.”

“Yeah, you're welcome.” He watched Mark take another bite and winced. Began to peel his own so he wasn't just sitting there with a damp banana in his hand. He didn't know if he really wanted it now, but he'd cut the ends off and there was no point wasting good food, not when they couldn't afford more. “Hey Marky?”

“Mm?”

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sure.” Mark shrugged. “How weird?”

“Um.” Nicky shifted awkwardly. “You um... you've given head, right? To lads?”

“Uh...” Mark blinked at him, cheeks going a little bit pink. “Scuse me?”

“That's a thing you've done?”

“It's certainly come up.” Mark chuckled slightly, still looking baffled. “Why do you ask?”

“Just... wondering.” He took another tentative bite of the banana. “Do you like doing it?” he mumbled around a mouthful of fruit. Mark was staring at him. “Or... no? Or...”

“It's okay,” Mark hedged. “Why?”

“Just...” Nicky sighed. “I dunno. I was just thinking about this girl I was with, and she didn't like doing it, and I was just wondering, you know... what it was like. Because I was a bit offended at the time but then I thought maybe it's me being an arsehole, you know? And it's not like I can ask a girl if they like... you know.”

“So you're asking me?”

Nicky shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” Mark scratched his head. “Yeah, it's fine.”

“Are you like... good at it?”

“Erm.” Mark was going pink. “No complaints recently.” He took a bite of his own banana. It was half gone. “I dunno. Took a bit of practice, I guess. Suppose it's like anything. Some people just aren't into it. Why, are you still sleeping with her?”

“...no.” Nicky hesitated, thinking. “Or yes. Maybe. Looking at getting back with her, sort of, and I just thought... because she was a nice girl and I liked her, but the sex wasn't great. Because she'd never really been with a lad before. Um. Virgin. Or she was, at the time. So I thought maybe like... if I knew how to...”

“If you knew how to what?”

“Just... like, I could teach her. How to have sex with a lad?”

“So you're asking me how to teach a girl to have sex with you?”

“...yes?” This was not going well. Nicky shifted, fidgeting while he tried to figure out how to continue. “Or not really, no. Just how to like make her feel comfortable and stuff. You know, with doing that?”

“With giving head.”

“Yeah.” Mark was looking at him like he was from space. Nicky winced. “Please?”

“What... do you want to know?”

“Um.” Nicky looked down at his banana. It was half gone, so it was no bloody good. “Well, like she keeps gagging and that. Can't get much in. Which I don't mind but she keeps trying and it's a bit... offputting.”

“You want me to teach your girlfriend how to _deepthroat_?”

“Yeah. Or just... teach me and I'll teach her.” Nicky looked at him pleadingly. “Look, she's like... sheltered, if you know what I mean? Like, hasn't watched porn or anything and her parents are a bit religious and that so she's never really asked any of that stuff.”

“That doesn't seem like your type at all.”

“I'm an enigma,” Nicky shot back. “Help or don't.”

“I...” Mark tilted his head, looking thoughtful, then sighed. He covered his mouth with his hand while he coughed slightly, then turned towards Nicky, crossing his legs on the chair. “Okay. I'm not saying I'm an expert, though.”

“You've still sucked more dicks than me.”

“That's probably true,” Mark laughed. “Unless there's something you're not telling me.” Nicky forced a laugh back, trying not to squirm. “Um, alright. What do you want me to do?”

 

*

 

Mark didn't know quite what to say. He'd stumbled out from an afternoon nap, feeling congested and shitty, and Nicky had started talking about blowjobs. It wasn't, in fairness, the strangest conversation he'd had with Nicky, but it was certainly the strangest one they'd had sober. He didn't know who this girl was Nicky was seeing, but she didn't seem his type at all. Not that Nicky typically went for girls who were easy, but he tended to like girls who were up for a good time, were a bit of a laugh. Confident, adventurous types, not religious virgins.

Maybe she had really good legs or something, Mark didn't know. Either way, Nicky looked quite earnest about the whole thing. It was sort of cute, he supposed. And hell, if Nicky had found a girl he was interested in then Mark was happy for him. He'd been miserable since he'd lost his job. He needed a bit of happiness in his life.

“What do you want me to do?” Mark asked. Nicky looked embarrassed. It was very sweet.

“Um.” Nicky looked around them furtively, like he wasn't quite sure either. “You... could show me?”

“Excuse me?” Mark shook his head, sure he'd heard that wrong. “Show you?”

“Not like...” Nicky went bright red. “Not on me.”

“Well you're not watching me and Kian.”

“No! God, no!” Nicky exclaimed. “Yuck.” Mark wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. “Not you. Sorry. Just... no. I mean like...” He looked down at the half-eaten banana in his hand. “I could get you a banana.”

“I'm not wasting fruit. Bananas are expensive.”

“You can eat it after.”

“I just had one.” Mark finished the last bite, chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed, going a bit pink when he had an idea. Not that he was about to suggest it. Absolutely n... “I have a dildo in my room,” he said, before his brain could engage with his mouth. Nicky blinked. Mark felt himself go redder.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “You know. For if like... I'm missing Kian.” He winced, feeling his cheeks burn. “So... that's there.”

“Um.” Nicky's eyes were widening. “Really?”

“Yeah, I could...” No, he couldn't. No no no. “I could show you on that?”

“You'd put it in your mouth after...”

“I... usually put a condom over it,” Mark mumbled. “It's clean.” He sighed. “I'm on too much cold and flu, aren't I? We can't actually be having this conversation.”

“Er... yeah. No. It's all in your head.” Nicky chuckled weakly. “Mm...” He looked away. Mark did too, staring blankly at the carpet. “Would you mind?”

Mark looked up, eyes widening.

“Really?”

“Just for a bit. Crash course?”

“Crash course in blowjobs.”

“Yeah. You know. Cliffnotes. I don't need the fancy stuff.”

“Um.” Mark was standing up. Why the hell was he standing up? “I'll.. go get it.” He started to shuffle for the bedroom, not able to believe he was doing this. When he came back Nicky was still sitting in the same spot, legs crossed and face serious while he watched Mark walk into the room with a dildo in one hand, dangling pathetically against his thigh.

“That's it?”

“That's it.” Mark put it down onto the coffee table base first, where it flopped sideways slightly, then fell over. They both started to giggle, unable to help it. Nicky was staring at it, this seven inch blue thing with rather realistic veins, a reasonable enough girth. Mark had bought one the closest to Kian he could find, had used it a couple of times when they'd been wanking on the phone and Nicky had been in no danger of coming home. It had been nice. He didn't think he ever wanted to look at it again.

“So now what?”

“I don't know, what do you want?”

“Um.” Nicky looked at it carefully. “Well... give it a blowjob, then.”

“Right now?” Nicky shrugged. Mark picked it back up again. “Why don't you just tell her what you like?”

“This isn't about what I like. It's about...” Nicky sighed. “Please? It's important to me.” Mark sighed as well, wishing the pleading look on Nicky's face wasn't getting to him.

“I usually start with a lick, I guess,” he began. “Like, a good one, all the way up.” He demonstrated, which was probably a bit redundant, but all in and that. “Then I usually just...” he wrapped his lips around the head, effectively stopping himself talking. It was a bit difficult with his nose blocked, but he left a little space at the corner of his mouth to get some air in. He came up again a second later. “Then I just kind of like... go a bit at a time. Like, go up and down and go a little further down each time. Breathe out when I go down, in as I come up. Try to get a rhythm going so it feels natural. If you think about choking or whatever you probably will. You have to just relax.”

“What if you gag, though?”

“Then I stop going down that far,” Mark explained. “You get used to it, I guess. I can't breathe through my nose right now, so I probably can't show you that, but honestly deepthroating's pretty hard anyway. If you relax your throat you can get quite far, but I've only done it properly like twice, and then only because we were sixty-nining. If you're on your knees or whatever it's going to be curved up, and your throat curves back, so like...” He trailed off, feeling his cheeks go hot. “Um.”

“Then what?”

“Erm...” Mark looked at the damp dildo. “Well... if you kind of move your head...” he tried to demonstrate, wrapping his lips around and swivelling slightly in a circle, feeling it move around his mouth, pressing up against his palate, then down against his tongue. He pulled up again. Nicky was watching avidly. It was weird. “And you can use your hand on the rest. Just make sure it's wet. Make sure everything's wet, honestly. Lots of spit. I kind of corkscrew a little bit, but...” He put the dildo on the table, holding it upright, then bent down, holding the base to the table and using the other hand to stroke, twisting his wrist as he went.

He took it back into his mouth, sucking down as far as his hand, then back up, setting a rhythm and trying to breathe through his blocked nose. When he looked up Nicky was watching, eyes intent in a way Mark wasn't too sure about. He came up again, coughing slightly.

“And yeah,” he gestured at the toy, which had fallen over when he let go. “That's a blowjob. I mean, if you want to do other stuff, like play with the balls or you know... stuff like that, I guess that's up to you.”

Nicky looked at the toy, then back up at Mark.

“And um... swallowing?”

“Not a fan.” Mark shrugged. “I've done it. I don't really hate it, it's just the texture. I usually cheat.”

“Cheat?”

“Yeah, like, I'll let it fill my mouth and then start to let it spill out again. Pretend, you know, that there was just so much I couldn't keep up, and that's just the extra. It's messier, but it works.”

“You pretend to swallow?” Nicky looked appalled. “Does Kian know?”

“I'm sure he does,” Mark chuckled, the absurdity of all of this starting to spill over as he got less embarrassed. “He probably does it sometimes as well. It's still really nice to look at. Sexier than spitting it out, anyway.” He felt himself go pink. “What are you going to do, tell your lass to pretend?” Nicky shrugged. “Sort of ruins the illusion if you ask her to.”

“Yeah, I don't know.” Nicky was staring at the dildo again. “Um, thanks.” He looked furtively up at Mark. “That was... helpful.”

“Was it?” Mark didn't see how, particularly. This had been a weird afternoon. “Can I put it away now?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Nicky was standing up. “I'm gonna go have a shower.” Mark nodded. “Hey, so where do you hide that thing? I didn't even know you had it.”

“Oh... just in the drawer next to my bed,” Mark admitted. “You know. On hand.”

“Oh. Right.” Nicky was already walking out of the room. “Well, thanks.”

“You're welcome,” Mark replied blankly. The bathroom door shut behind Nicky.

Mark looked back at the dildo, wondering what the hell had just happened.

 

*

 

Mark went back to work on Sunday. He wasn't ready, still looked pale and not entirely like the kind of person people wanted to see serving their food, but there was no telling him otherwise and they did need the money.

Mark had been out of the house for twenty minutes when Nicky snuck into his room and pulled out the dildo.

It was pretty much the way he remembered it. Blue and veiny, about seven inches long and sort of thick. He wondered if that was what Kian looked like, then dismissed the thought as way too much information to contemplate. He gave it a quick rinse under the hot tap, hoping Mark hadn't used it since last time he'd seen it. Tried not to think about that either.

He put it to his lips, taking a deep breath.

Okay.

He licked it, root to tip, the way Mark had shown him. That was fine. It tasted synthetic and rubbery, but he could deal with that. Then he closed his mouth over the top, just taking in the head, swirling his tongue around slightly the way he liked it himself. Sank down, breathing out through his nose, breathing in as he came back up. It was a bit weird, but not too bad, as long as he didn't think about the dildo as being an actual cock. It was just a thing. Shaped like a cock.

He got down a little further the next time, tried to relax his throat. He gagged a little, but he pulled up carefully, felt it ease. The next time wasn't so bad. He breathed slowly, opening his eyes, not sure if he was okay with blue silicon balls that close to his face.

He held it for a second, used his hand to see how much was left. He wasn't doing too badly, he supposed, had more in than he'd expected, maybe four inches or so. He came back up, trying to jerk it the way Mark had showed him, swivelling his head around slightly. This seemed quite a good blowjob, if he did say so himself. If he was given one like this he certainly wouldn't be complaining.

He pushed a little deeper, breathed slowly, then pulled off. Looked at it carefully. It was shiny with spit, a little bit trickling down towards the base. His throat was a little raw, he supposed, but it didn't hurt or anything and he thought that was just because he was focusing on it. He swallowed a few times. Felt fine. He picked up the dildo again and squinted at it.

Okay, right.

He could do this.

 

*

 

When Mark came home it was late. He'd gone to the library at the university after work to catch up on a few things and start typing up his assignments again. He'd been distracted by being ill and exhausted, but slowly he was starting to realise the magnitude of what had happened, just how much he'd lost. Months and months of coursework, all his notes from his lectures, gone like that. He couldn't...

He didn't know any more, honestly. Maybe this was a sign. He'd been flagging badly on motivation lately. He was still getting good marks, doing his best, but the passion he'd had at the beginning was starting to dwindle. He'd done his first work experience placement the semester before, helping out at a homeless shelter, and while he'd appreciated everything the people there were doing it had all been really overwhelming. Some of the stories he'd heard were enough to make him wonder if he was up to it, really. If all the lectures in the world could prepare him for actually having to do it in the real world. He'd wanted to work with kids, mostly, maybe in foster care, but even then he didn't know if he could do it. It all seemed so big and important, and he didn't know if he was that. If he could be... that.

He hadn't said anything to Kian. He'd moved down here to do this, basically split them up for two and a half years because he'd said this was what he wanted. And at the time it had been. But he'd put so much work in. He didn't even have a year left. If he could just finish, at least take the piece of paper, then he could show it had all been worth it. Even if he did something else, he had the proof.

He didn't know what else he wanted to do.

“Hey.” Nicky looked up when he came in the door. Mark smiled weakly.

“Hi.” He sank down on the couch, kicking off his shoes.

“How you feeling?”

“Tired,” Mark sighed. “Sick,” he added. He'd tried his best to keep it hidden at work. His hands were almost raw with antiseptic, nose red from blowing

“Food?”

“What have we got?”

“Mac and cheese?”

“Oh my god, that sounds amazing.” He closed his eyes. He must have nodded off for a bit because when he opened them again there was a thick, cheesy smell floating through the house. He yawned. Nicky leaned over the back of the couch and handed him a bowl.

“Get that down your neck.”

“Thanks.” He sat up a little and peered into the bowl. “Did you make this?” It was proper, not just instant in a cup. Creamy and soft when he dug his fork into it. He took a small bite, sticking his tongue out to catch the cheese. “This is perfect.”

“It turned out alright,” Nicky shrugged. “Remember you showed me how to do it a couple of months ago?” Mark nodded. He'd been making it and Nicky had asked what he'd been doing, so he'd explained it as he'd gone, Nicky nodding intently. He hadn't expected Nicky to remember. “Thought I'd give it a go.”

“You did an amazing job.” He took another bite. “Where's yours?”

“Already ate,” Nicky explained. “I was hungry.”

“Well... thanks. I'm impressed.” Mark wanted to cry for a second and wasn't sure why. He reached up, instead, and squeezed the hand rested on the back of the couch.

“Good teacher.” Nicky tousled Mark's hair once his hand was free. “I'm gonna head to bed, though. Gotta be up early. Job interview.”

“Hey, great!” Mark grinned, delighted. “Where at?”

“Oh... just some magazine. They need someone to do like... odd jobs and that?”

“Well, you are an odd job,” Mark joked. Nicky stuck his tongue out. “Cool, well... goodnight I guess. Thanks for dinner.”

“No problem. There's leftovers in the fridge if you want more.” Nicky patted his hair one more time. “Or you can take it to work tomorrow if you want.” Mark nodded gratefully. “Feel better, alright?”

“I will.” He watched Nicky wander out of the room, feeling a smile crawl over his face, feeling his heart glow a little. He wasn't sure entirely why, maybe just that this was the first time something positive had happened in a little while, even if it was just a good, hot meal and someone looking out for him. He took another bite of his dinner, moaning softly when warm cheese ran down his throat.

Bloody perfect.

He went to bed after dinner, curling up under the blankets and listening to dodgy springs squeak in the room next door. He fell asleep, his stomach full and heart a little lighter.

 

*

 

Nicky lay motionless on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He didn't know if what he'd done all day was enough, not really. Practice on a blue, ridiculous-looking toy was one thing, but he didn't know how he felt about what was probably going to happen the next day. Still, two hundred euro was two hundred euro, and that was at least last month's power sorted. If he did a few jobs like that he could have everything sorted in a few weeks, without doing anything too horribly outside his comfort zone.

Admittedly, if he'd told himself the week before that he'd consider this anywhere near his comfort zone he'd call himself a liar and probably have himself committed. That was still an option, he supposed.

He'd given it a go, sort of. The other thing. Jerked himself off and just... tasted it a bit. He'd done it before, suspected any lad who said he hadn't was lying, but this was different, trying to get a handful of it in his mouth without gagging. It hadn't been terrible, but he certainly hadn't enjoyed it, had spent a good while after brushing his teeth as thoroughly as possible. Then he'd washed the toy, put it back in Mark's drawer, and made him dinner, knowing the poor boy was probably going to come home exhausted and hungry. He could hear him now, coughing slightly through the wall.

After a while he heard soft, congested snores, and smiled to himself.

He rolled over in bed and closed his eyes.

Sleep was a long time coming.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Everyone was really nice. There were a couple of guys there this time. Glenn the photographer was back, Louis as well. An assistant named Brian, who was taller, with messy brown hair and a permanent smile. Nicky got there a bit early because he'd been too nervous about arriving late. Nervous about arriving at all, to be fair. They got him to put on an outfit from the rack in the corner, just a boring black suit that made him feel a little like he was in a boyband. Brian took him to makeup next, got him settled in while a quiet lad with a short green fauxhawk started dabbing foundation on him.

“Louis said this is your first one?” Brian asked. He talked a lot, Nicky had noticed. Seemed a nice enough sort, though, very friendly. “Nervous?”

“Dunno,” Nicky admitted. “I'm straight,” he added. Brian nodded.

“Yeah, we get a lot of that.” Nicky looked up in surprise. “You make better money doing this stuff than the straight stuff, that's for sure.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, easier to get into, too. The straight stuff's basically looking for one body type, but the gay scene's up for a bit of variety,” Brian explained. “I'd say about half the guys here aren't really gay as such. I'm not.”

“You're not shagging on camera, though.”

“True,” Brian laughed. “Ah, fair play to ya, though. If you can do it, it's a good racket. Hard to get into, though. You got lucky. Louis'll take anyone at the moment. No offence.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, well... not that I told ya. I didn't tell him, right Ken?” The makeup guy nodded, rolling his eyes. “Not that it's a secret, but most of the sites in the UK and Ireland are run by this bloke Simon, right? Big deal, part-owns a bunch of stuff in America too. Anyway, Louis used to work for him. They had a falling out, Louis quit, and he's started up his own. Which is the website, mostly. But some other stuff. Parties, bit of escorting, that sort of thing. Except Simon knows everyone, so no-one wants to work with Louis right now. You don't want Simon to blacklist you, not in this business.”

“Oh, right.” Nicky nodded. “Well... I don't really need a career out of this, so I'm not fussed. Just trying to pay rent.”

“Aren't we all.” Brian rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I couldn't give a toss about any of it. I'm just doing this for a bit of experience. I'm doing broadcasting at college. Lot more knobs than I'm technically comfortable with, but you get used to it, and Louis does still have a few decent connections.” He smiled at Nicky. “Ye okay? You look a bit pale.”

“I'm fine,” Nicky managed. Ken stepped back, pursed his lips, then started applying a little more powder. “It'll be alright on the day.”

“That's the spirit.” Brian clapped him on the shoulder. Ken started packing up. “Come on, we'll get you set up. You want some Viagra or anything?” Nicky shook his head. No, he'd wait and see how everything went first. “Cool, well, if it helps just think of it as a big game of dress up. Alright?” Nicky smiled weakly. “Yeah, you'll be fine. Come with me.”

 

*

 

Mark had just finished serving a bunch of giggling college girls when two hands came over his eyes. He yelped, almost dropping the tray he was holding.

“Guess who?”

“Kian?” He turned around, got a grin. The tray went down on the closest empty table while he was pulled into a hug. “Oh my god, hey!” He hugged back. There were probably a few people watching, but he didn't mind, though he did extricate himself quickly before he could get in trouble with his manager. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I'd come visit.” He wanted to kiss Kian badly, but that was edging too close to being unprofessional. He picked up the tray again instead. “Mind seating me?”

“I don't know, we're all booked out,” Mark teased. “Um...” He glanced around, then led Kian over to a spare table that didn't have a reservation. “What can I get you?”

“How about something hot and creamy?” Kian winked. Mark smirked back. “Nah, I'd love a short stack. Extra syrup?”

“Think I can do that.” He smirked when a hand slid up his thigh. He stepped a little closer to the table so people wouldn't see. “To drink?”

“Strawberry milkshake.” The hand squeezed, then let go. Mark bit his lip. “When do you get off?”

“In about an hour.” They'd been texting that morning, Kian asking what he was doing today. It all made sense now. “You don't have to hang around if you don't want to.”

“Course I do. Gotta have breakfast. Tip my waiter.”

“Just the tip?”

“Cheeky.” Kian gave him a look laden with heat. “Please tell me you don't have somewhere to be after this.”

“Just headed home,” Mark confirmed. God, he didn't think he could wait an hour, now. It'd been way too long since he'd felt Kian's hands on him. He shivered slightly. Kian saw it, a hungry smile crawling across his face. “Um... I'll be back with your drink.” He headed off, glancing over his shoulder. Kian was staring at his arse. He winked back and headed for the kitchen.

 

*

 

Milos seemed like a friendly enough guy. A little older than Nicky, maybe, with black hair and intense dark eyes, a bit Mediterranean. He had just finished getting suited up when Nicky came back in from make-up. He shook Nicky's hand and asked how he was. Nicky said he was fine.

It was a simple enough set-up, he supposed. Both of them in their suits. Nicky was supposed be the boss, Milos was an employee after a raise, though he was fairly certain everything they were about to do violated workplace harassment laws, probably health and safety as well. There was a desk set up in the middle of the room, papers all over it.

Nicky sat down. Milos sat on the desk, looking down at him. Nicky was supposed to look up, put his hand on Milos inner thigh. He did it, trying not to giggle. They took a few photos.

Things... happened quite quickly after that. Milos' tie came undone. So did Nicky's, then his shirt. Milos stripped his shirt off Then Nicky was on his feet and Louis was telling them to kiss. He leaned in, hesitant.

Milos' mouth met his before he got a chance. It was hard, rough. A tongue invaded his mouth quickly, stubble grinding on his cheek and Nicky let out a surprised gasp, eyes opening wide. The camera flash went off. Then again. So he closed his eyes, grabbed the back of Milos' neck and yanked him in harder, tilting his head and trying to make this look good. They broke after a moment, Milos' eyes laughing. Louis told him to sit back down, and for Milos to undo his trousers.

Nicky swallowed, sinking down into the swivel chair.

That was... quite a large cock.

He stared at it for a second. It was up, looked much bigger than what Nicky had been practicing on. Smooth and cut. His balls were waxed. Nicky wondered if he should have done that too, but it was too late now and the thought made him wince. Glen came a little closer, asking Nicky to kiss it, please.

Okay.

Right.

He took a deep breath and leaned in, trying to look interested when Milos tilted himself up, letting Nicky's lips make contact with the underside. It was a weird feeling, delicate and hard at the same time, soft skin and rigid veins. He opened his mouth slightly, letting his lips draw slowly up the shaft until he reached the head. The camera was still going off. Milos cupped his cheek and gave him a quick wink. Nicky found himself giggling back.

“Cut.” They stopped. Nicky pulled back, wiping his mouth. Louis was gesturing Glenn over, whispering to him. The other man was nodding back. “Right lads. Milos, I want you to go down on Nicky, yeah?” Milos nodded. Nicky blinked, not sure how he felt about that. He'd thought he'd be the one doing...

“Okay?” Milos asked. Nicky nodded.

“I guess.” This was better, probably. Not having to... do it. A part of him was a little disappointed, though. All that muck-around, all that weird shit with Mark, and it'd been more or less for nothing. He'd kissed a cock and not much else. Still, bullets dodged and silver linings. He hopped up on the desk at Louis' instruction, laughing when Milos sank into the chair and gave him a cheeky smirk.

His trousers were undone slowly, the camera going off the whole time. Then he was out, soft in the harsh light. Milos bent down.

Warm. Wet. Nicky closed his eyes for a moment in surprise. He knew it was a bloke, but that first moment of contact, of heat, was still very nice. He bit his lip, felt a tongue snake up the underside, the camera still flashing through his closed eyelids.

“Oh,” he muttered. Opened his eyes again. Brian was giving him a thumbs up. He tried not to laugh.

It was really strange, like getting a blowjob in stages. Milos would stop every minute or so and they'd readjust. Nicky moving his legs into a certain position, Milos adjusting his hands. Not erotic in the slightest. By the time he was taken in for the tenth time the surprise was over and he wasn't exactly enjoying it. It wasn't bad. Milos was certainly good at what he was doing, but he didn't want to come, really.

Louis asked him to come on Milos' face.

He looked down. He was mostly hard. Milos was looking up expectantly.

“Um,” Nicky said. “On his face?”

“It's cool.” Milos shrugged. “Go for it.”

“Right...” Nicky started to stroke. They kept adjusting him there as well. One foot was up the desk, the other on the chair while Milos stuck out his tongue, Nicky's cock tapping it with every stroke. It curled up, teasing him, and he shut his eyes. Tried to focus. Tried to find...

Mark, sinking down on that blue, veiny, ridiculous thing. He almost laughed, felt a surge of... something. Gasped out softly when he felt heat close around the head of his cock, then bob down. Down again. He groaned and tangled his fingers in soft hair. Felt Milos' moan more than he heard it.

“Oh...” he gasped. The camera went off again. Mark's lips, soft and wet, eyes looking up at Nicky, laughing and embarrassed like they were asking if this was what he wanted. He opened his eyes, felt his stomach flutter, groin tense. His shirt was open, hanging around his hips. A finger stroked around his left nipple, making him grunt in surprise. He stroked harder and tried to hold that point. The one where it was all okay because he was hard and this felt good and he could _do_ this.

He came with a sudden yelp. Looked down to watch Milos take it, painting over a stubbled cheek, creamy and sticky, roping out of him while he felt himself go guiltily dizzy. Because an orgasm was a fucking orgasm and he felt _good_. Like he'd beaten something, so to speak. Done something he hadn't thought himself entirely capable of.

It was over a moment later. Brian threw Milos a cloth. He started to wipe himself off, winking at Nicky over an obscenely messy chin. Glenn took a picture of Nicky's flushed face. Louis said that was a wrap, and could everyone be back here in five please. Milos wandered over to a sink in the corner. Brian came over.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. He was, surprisingly. “How did it go?”

“Pretty good.” Brian winked. “Not bad at all, mate.”

“Thanks.” Nicky exhaled slowly. It was all over. He was buzzing a little still, wanting to go to sleep like he usually did when he had finished rubbing one out. Instead he was sitting on a desk in a little studio while some guy washed Nicky's cum off his face. He did himself back up and climbed off, legs a little trembly. Louis called them over a few minutes later.

“Looks good, lads,” he commented. Nicky leaned over to see. They did look good. He was a bit taken aback by the amount of shots they'd taken of his face. Lips parted, cheeks flushed, dark eyes looking down. He looked fucking sexy, if he did say so himself. Milos looked great too, Nicky's cock between his lips, and Nicky thought he should feel less okay about that than he was, but they were good shots.

He couldn't exactly pin them to the fridge, but he was a little bit proud of himself.

“That's it,” Louis announced. “You'll be paid within twenty-four hours.” Nicky nodded, a trickle of relief settling in. “Good work today.” Glenn and Brian were already starting to pack up. Nicky was just about to leave when Louis asked if he could hang around. He agreed, loitering around the door while Louis finished sorting out a few things. Milos came over, slinging a satchel over his shoulder.

“Nice meeting you.” Milos stuck out a hand. “Can I ask your real name?”

“Um.” Nicky blinked, confused. “Nicky.”

“Using your real name? That's brave.” They shook. “Mike.”

“Hi,” Nicky chuckled, realisation bleeding in. “I should probably get a name, shouldn't I?”

“Not a bad idea.” Mike winked. “Mine was the name of a very cute gardener that worked for my family when I was a kid. He was an absolute babe. Straight, though. The bastard.”

“Ah, we're not all bad.”

“No, some of you are alright.” Mike nudged him. “I'll probably see you round here a bit. I mostly do escorting, but this stuff's good for publicity. Thanks for today.” He sidled past. “See ya, yeah?”

“Bye.” Nicky waved, then sank back to lean against the wall.

A name, huh?

Not a bad idea.

 

*

 

Mark groaned, eyes squeezing shut when he felt himself hit bottom. Kian was on his back under him, legs around his waist, and fuck, fuck he was tight. It had been nearly impossible to get to this point. He'd finished his shift, flirting with Kian in between serving, and by the time they'd left he'd been so on edge he'd barely been able to stop himself going down on Kian on the bus.

They'd banged into the flat joined at the lips, devouring each other, Kian's hands already halfway down his trousers and Mark trying to yank his boyfriend's shirt off without breaking the kiss.

“Yes...” Kian arched, clinging to him. “Ah...”

“Fuck,” Mark breathed, trying not to thrust, trying not to end this too soon. “Fuck, oh...” He opened his eyes, saw a heaving chest, dazed blue eyes. “Oh god.”

“Oh god,” Kian echoed. “I...” He whimpered when Mark shifted. “I fucking missed you. Jesus...”

“Missed you,” Mark gasped. Kian arched again, heels drumming at the small of his back.

“Fuck me,” Kian urged. “Just...”

“Can't.” He looked down. “I can't. I'll...”

“Doesn't matter. Believe me, we can go again.” Kian smirked. Mark laughed. “I know I can.”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes. Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling his head into Kian's shoulder. He settled, slowed his breath as best as he could, feeling a heart beat hard and fast against him. Fingers stroked gently through his hair. “Just gotta...”

“Shh...” A kiss brushed his forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Mark whispered back. “It's been really shit lately. I missed you.”

“I'm here,” Kian murmured. “I can stay for a couple of days.” Mark nodded, relieved. “Missed this.”

“The sex?”

“Just getting to hold you.” Mark smiled, nuzzling into Kian's chest. Even though things had been difficult lately, it didn't change the fact that Kian had always been there for him, even when Mark didn't necessarily want him to be. Kian cared about him. The legs around his waist sank a little, hooking around his thighs instead, making him shiver when they shifted.

“Missed it too.” He looked up. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Fingers kept stroking through his hair. “Go slow, love. We've got time.”

“Yeah.” Mark pushed himself back up onto his knees and elbows. One of Kian's legs wrapped around his waist again, the other still curled around his thighs.

He began to move carefully. Heard Kian gasp, felt him shudder. A kiss mouthed slowly at his neck, breaths puffing at damp skin as he upped the pace, sawing slowly in. Out. In. Kian let out a soft shout. Mark kissed it away. Trembling fingers tangled in his hair.

“Mark,” Kian gasped. “Marky.”

“Ki,” he whispered. “Yes.”

“Yes,” Kian groaned. A hand clawed at his shoulder.

Kian pulled him over the edge a few minutes later, pulled him in. Mark filled him with a shiver, groaning when Kian went as well, spilling between them, hard breaths sealing their kiss together.

He collapsed with a laugh, heard Kian laugh too, and felt gentle fingers stroke through his hair.

“Love you,” Kian murmured.

Mark closed his eyes, smiling.

 

*

 

Louis took him back to the office. It all felt a bit weird, sitting in a tidy room surrounded by filing cabinets and bookshelves when he'd just finished coming all over some lad's face. It was a lot to take in. He'd just kissed a lad for the first time, which for some reason was the bit his mind was ticking over the most. Never mind he'd had his mouth on the lad's cock, gotten a blowjob from a lad, it was that feeling, stubble and hard heat, that kept ringing in his head.

If Mark could bloody see him now.

He'd already decided not to tell Mark. Not for a while. Not because he was embarrassed, because he wasn't entirely sure that he was, but because he didn't think Mark would get it. Mark would probably be upset, say he didn't have to do this, exploit himself like this, that they'd find another way. And Nicky would probably agree. But there wasn't another way, and if he could do this for a while he could probably sort everything out before Mark even found out. Get him a new laptop, maybe, once the bills were all paid. He wanted to.

He could do this. Just for a little bit. Just until...

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He looked up, realising Louis had sat down, that he'd drifted into his own head. “Sorry. Just... thinking.”

“You did well in there.”

“Cheers.” He found himself smiling. He had done well. “It was easier than I expected, honestly. Milos – erm, Mike – he was cool.”

“He's a good lad.” Louis shuffled some papers, then sat back, appraising him. Nicky felt a prickle run up his spine and shifted nervously in his chair. “You've got a really good look.” Nicky shrugged, not sure if he was supposed to be flattered or not. “You look good on camera too. Some of the shots today are fantastic. You give good face, and that's something that's tricky. I can find a guy who's pretty, but you sell it.” Nicky felt himself go a little red. “You still looking for work?”

“Yeah,” Nicky admitted. Louis nodded.

“Look, you've probably heard but this is all fairly new. We're still trying to brand ourselves, stick out a bit from the competition. And believe me, there's a lot of competition.” Louis tilted his head. “Here's what I'm looking for.” He turned his computer slightly, leaning forward. There was a lad on the screen, a sexy black guy around Nicky's age, stretched out naked on a sofa like the lass from Titanic, one muscled arm thrown above his head. Underneath there was the beginning of a block of text.

“So... it's like a diary?” There were entries. _March 3_ _rd_ _... tried out a new dildo today..._ Then there were pictures of him and another lad using it, a link to a website selling it, and a link to the video.

“That's the idea. I want to get maybe five lads to be headliners, and each of you gets a personalised page. We write the copy, find the sponsorship. All you have to do is get your kit off and play the part.”

Nicky bit his lip. This was a bit more public that doing a few shots for guys to wank over. He'd be there on the front page. He didn't know if Mark watched much porn, if he'd see it, but what if his brother or someone saw it pop up while they were mucking around online?

“We'd do at least one entry a week,” Louis went on, “which means a few videos a week, maybe a couple of photoshoots as well. Are you interested in acting?” Nicky shrugged. He'd always liked acting, had done a few theatre bits in school, though this probably wasn't what his teachers had had in mind. “You'd be contracted for four months to start, then if it's going well and you're getting good traffic we can look at renewing you.”

“Um.” Nicky looked at the page again, then reached out to move the mouse, scrolling down a little. The next entry was a solo bit, the guy jerking it and winking at the camera. Then a threesome, him and another lad on either end of a pretty guy who barely looked eighteen. “How much?”

“Here...” Louis reached into his desk and pulled out a thick bundle of paper, pushing it across the desk. Nicky stared at it. That was a lot of clauses. He peered at the first page. Louis asked him to turn to page twelve.

Nicky nearly choked when he saw the figure there.

“Really?”

“That's your weekly for doing the diary, including any promotional shots and extra on top of that, and for using your likeness. Sometimes we'll have you do live Q&As or webcam work, maybe show up at a party or something, which you'll get a little bump for, but otherwise it's all included. Everything else is per scene.” Nicky shook his head, not sure what to say. He hadn't even sucked a dick yet, not properly.

“I...” If he did a video or two he'd be making over two thousand a week. He looked back at Louis, who was watching him with twinkling eyes. “Can I think about it?”

“Sure.” Louis nodded. “Read it over, see what you think. I've got three boys already, a couple more lined up, but... I like what you did today. I think you'd sell really well.” He nudged the contract a little closer to Nicky, who took it carefully, not even sure where to start. “You want to do a solo scene tomorrow? I can get you in for two hours after lunch. Usual rate is four hundred.”

“Really?” Nicky asked. Louis nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.” He looked at the contract again, not sure what to make of any of this. “Cool,” he muttered, totally overwhelmed. “Um. Right.” He looked up, saw Louis still watching him expectantly, then realised what he'd meant to say earlier. “Oh, can I change my name? For the...” He gestured at the laptop. “Like, for my pictures today and that?”

“If you like.” Louis nodded. “What name?”

“Um.” He hadn't thought about it all that much, just knew he didn't exactly want Nicky Byrne all over the internet with a cock in his mouth. He didn't know what a gay porn name was supposed to sound like, whether it was supposed to be normal or something ridiculous, like Hammer Bumfuck or Squirt McHairy. “I don't know. What do I look like?”

“Hm...” Louis leaned back in his chair again, appraising him. “You look a bit like Ronan Keating, actually,” he chuckled. Not a bad name, to be honest. Good Irish name, boy next door. We can use that.”

“Ronan?” Nicky tested it. “Ronan,” he said again. “Yeah, I like it.” He stood up, the contract under his arm. “Hey... thanks.”

“No problem.” Louis winked. “That contract expires in a week. Let me know.” He stood up too and reached out a hand. Nicky shook it. “I like you, kid. Let's see what you've got, okay?” Nicky nodded, wondering what exactly he had.

He left the office feeling a little lighter, though his stomach was twisted into a knot.

Right.

Okay.

 

*

 

“Mm...” Mark tilted his head, shivering when fingers ran soothingly up his neck and back down, starting to make slow circles in the muscle of his shoulder. He had his head laid in Kian's lap, was enjoying the smell of him, the feel of fingers on his skin.

“Hey.” A kiss brushed his ear. He wriggled happily. “Feeling better?”

“A bit,” he conceded. He'd started to come good today, and having Kian here definitely helped.

“They really did take everything, didn't they?”

“Yeah,” Mark sighed, looking at the empty space where the TV had sat. It hadn't been a great TV, but it was still depressing. Nicky was complaining that he kept missing the football, had gone to the pub a few times to watch it. “Getting sick of having to boil water on the stove.”

“Why don't we go shopping then? I'll get you a couple of things.”

“No, thanks.” He looked up. Kian's face was genuine, concerned, and Mark got it. If Kian had needed something Mark would want to help him out too. “I'm okay. Nicky's got a job interview today, so hopefully...”

“Just a kettle.” Kian pursed his lips. “Please, babe. I know you don't want me helping, but it's...” He glanced around the room. “Please. Are you okay for bills?”

“If you don't ask, I don't have to tell you,” Mark said pointedly. Kian frowned. “I'll let you know, okay? Let me sort this out on my own.”

“Fine.” Fingers brushed his cheek. “Come up here, okay? Give us a snog.” Mark laughed, sitting up and shifting backwards so his legs were over Kian's lap. Arms came around his waist. He rubbed their noses together. “Just a kettle.”

“Just a kettle,” Mark conceded. A triumphant glint sparked in worried eyes. He didn't much like it, but Kian needed to help, and it was just something small, he supposed. Not a big deal. He drew Kian into another kiss, shivered when a hand pushed under his shirt and palmed over his hip, tugging him closer. And okay, yeah, they were probably going to go again.

“Oh,” Kian muttered against his lips. Mark wriggled a little closer.

“Oh,” he teased.

They both started at keys in the lock, giggling when Nicky opened the door.

“Kian,” he said in surprise. Mark snuggled into Kian's shoulder a little, smiling. “Didn't know you were coming down.”

“It was a surprise,” Mark said, before Kian could say something. Probably something that would piss Nicky off. Or Nicky would say something that pissed Kian off. Either way. “How was your interview?”

“Good. I um... got a job.”

“Congratulations!” Mark extricated himself, going over to hug Nicky. Nicky hugged him back, laughing. “That's brilliant.”

“Congratulations,” Kian repeated. “Where at?”

“Erm...” Nicky looked a bit flustered. Mark wasn't sure what that was about. “It's this magazine. I'm just like... getting things for people and running errands and that. It's okay.”

“Good pay?” Kian asked. Mark shot him a look.

“Really good, actually Kian. Thanks.” Nicky raised an eyebrow. Mark sighed. “I start properly tomorrow, should have my first cheque in the next couple of days.” Mark hugged him again.

“It's brilliant,” he said. “I'm so pleased for you.” He glanced over at Kian. “Let's celebrate, okay? I'll run down the road and get a bottle of wine, then I'll make dinner.”

“Dinner's on me,” Nicky announced. “Still got a bit left from my JB. Don't really need it anymore. Kian? You want Chinese?”

“It's fine, Nicky. You save your money.”

“That's really nice of you,” Mark said. “Only if you can afford it.”

“I can.” Nicky squeezed his shoulder. “Grab the menu, pick anything you want. Get all the entrees if you like.” Mark laughed. Nicky knew he always liked to get a bunch of stuff from the entree menu rather than pick one meal. “Kian, what do you want?”

“I don't...”

“He'll have a barbecue pork and a fried rice,” Mark interrupted. Nicky nodded, shooting a glare in Kian's direction. Mark stepped between them. “Thanks, Nico.”

“Thanks back,” Nicky replied. Mark tilted his head, confused. “For everything, you know? I'll make it up to you.”

“You don't have to.” Mark went to the kitchen to get the menu. “I'm happy for you.”

Nicky grinned, heading towards his bedroom.

 

*

 

Nicky lay on his bed, reading through the contract. He had a full stomach, which was new. He hadn't been able to finish the whole thing, despite how hungry he'd been, but that was okay, Mark hadn't either. There were mountains of leftovers in the fridge. Kian had eaten his, the three of them sitting in the living room and making conversation, Nicky wishing desperately that they had a TV, because watching Mark trying to mediate between them like he thought they were about to start fighting was impossibly awkward.

Nicky couldn't be bothered. If Kian wanted to be a twat, that was his problem. He had a good meal settling in his stomach, was going to be able to pay off the power by the next afternoon, and Mark kept beaming at him so proudly that Nicky wanted to go over and hug him.

Now he could hear the squeak of Mark's bed, soft moans. Kian giggled. Nicky rolled his eyes, looking back at the contract.

It all looked okay. He had no idea, really. As far as he could tell he basically had a job for four months, during which anything he did was their property for the next five years. He didn't know if that was standard or not, but it sounded fine. There was a whole bit on safe sex, which was a bit comforting, though it did remind him that sex was... probably something he was going to have to do.

Maybe he could just ask to top or something. He didn't know. He flicked through, but it was all just a lot of words he didn't understand, and it wasn't like there was anyone he could ask, not really.

He heard a soft cry through the wall. Mark. Another one, bitten off like Mark was trying to be quiet. Kian groaned.

“Harder,” he heard Mark gasp. “Oh...”

And that... was an image. Nicky shook his head. He could hear things from time to time, but usually tried to block them out. Still, he was interested. This was something he was potentially going to have to do himself, and sooner rather than later. He was dreading it, he really was, but Mark seemed to be enjoying it. _Really_ enjoying it, if the gulping cry he heard next was anything to go by.

“Okay?” Kian murmured. Nicky heard Mark sob breathlessly. “Babe, that's...” He growled, the bed squeaking again.

“So good,” he heard Mark mumble. “So good, so good, so...” He gasped, cried out again, then Nicky heard what could only be a palm slapping down on skin. Again. Mark yelped. Nicky closed his eyes, hand sneaking down a little.

No. No, no, no no no.

He pulled his pillow over his head and clamped it down over his ears. Heard the squeak of springs through it.

He heard Mark cry out again, heard Kian echo it. The squeaking sped up for a last, frantic moment, then stopped. He heard a soft laugh.

He put the pillow back under his head, looking at the contract sitting on the mattress beside him.

Then he sighed and turned off the lights.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Gotta be anywhere today?” Kian's voice rumbled through the kisses sucking up Mark's throat, making him shiver. There was a hand on his arse, squeezing slowly. He'd just woken up. They'd fallen asleep late, panting and fucked out, Mark's eyes drifting closed while Kian had stroked his hair, watching him fondly with half-closed eyes.

It was a really good feeling.

“Not today.” Mark smiled. He didn't have a shift that day, and he could skip a class, he supposed. He didn't do it often, and he could always get the notes off someone else if he had to. Kian was here. Mark wasn't going anywhere. “Anything you want to do?”

“Stay right here with you,” Kian said firmly. Mark laughed. “Want to fuck you...” Mark groaned as the kiss trailed down his throat. “And suck you...” He shivered when a tongue licked down his collarbone, a finger slid down the crack of his arse.

“Oh...” Mark croaked, not sure if it was sleep or arousal that was deepening his voice. “Yes.”

“You're so sexy,” Kian breathed. Mark felt himself blush. He was okay, he supposed, but he never really felt that special. Kian always seemed impressed, though, and maybe that was one of the reasons Mark loved him. The hunger in blue eyes when Mark was doing something as simple as wandering around the flat. Feeling wanted.

Feeling Kian press against him, fingers card through his hair. Hearing him laugh on the phone and knowing he was the one making Kian happy. Missing him so much and then having these moments. The ones where Kian was his, and Mark was Kian's, and they were all snuggled up in their own cocoon, skin on skin and Kian softly telling him he was wanted.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Kian groaned. Mark laughed.

“What?”

“I'm going to work,” Nicky called out. “You decent?”

“No!” Kian called back. Mark pulled the blankets up a little higher just as the door swung open. Nicky looked at them, blankets up to their chests and Kian half draped across him, then nodded at Mark.

“Morning, lads.” He smirked. “Hey, do you have a folder or something I can borrow for work? I have some papers I don't want to get wrecked.”

“Yeah, course.” Mark gestured at his desk. “Bottom drawer. Should be a couple.” Nicky went over to rummage, pulling out a blue cardboard one that was a bit scuffed on the spine. “What sort of papers?”

“Just... stuff.” Nicky shrugged. “Can I?”

“Yeah, just leave that stuff on my desk. I'll sort it.” Nicky nodded and began to pull out the few pieces of paper inside. It was just leftover crap Mark had had for a class last semester and hadn't gotten around to throwing out yet. “Hey, have a good day.”

“Thanks.” Nicky grinned. “Should be interesting.”

“You'll be great,” Mark assured him. And Nicky probably would be. Mark had always liked that about him. He was friendly and charismatic, knew how to talk to people while Mark was still dithering in the corner, hiding behind his drink. He was driven, too. Determined. Mark had a feeling nothing was going to get in his way unless he wanted it to, especially once he had an idea fixed in his head.

“Enjoy shagging Kian.”

“He will,” Kian piped up. Mark chuckled, trying not to squeak out loud when a hand snuck up the inside of his thigh under the blankets. He nudged Kian lightly, felt the hand slide higher.

Nicky left with a wave, the door closing behind him.

Mark looked at Kian.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” The hand closed around him. Mark groaned. “Alright?”

Mark pounced on him, yanking the blankets up over their heads.

 

*

 

Louis wasn't there that day. Neither was Glenn. Nicky supposed they had days off, like everyone else, but it was still disconcerting not seeing any familiar faces. He passed Brian on the way in, got a cheerful greeting, but he was on the way to a different shoot and couldn't stop.

The room the receptionist ushered him into was nice. Small and tidy, a good approximation of a sparse bedroom, the bed a nice wooden frame in the middle of the room with white sheets and a blue duvet and pillows. The director was an unassuming, mousy man who looked more like an accountant and introduced himself as Neil.

They talked through what they wanted him to do. It was a bit strange, negotiating how he was going to wank off. Usually he just kind of got bored and started to muck around with himself, kept going if it felt good, but now they were talking about speed and angles and all sorts. They handed him a fleshlight. He'd never used one before, but had always been a bit curious. They said he could keep it afterwards if he wanted, so he supposed that was a perk.

There was a story, sort of. Long day at work, rub one out. That wasn't a new concept. They put him back in a suit and had him walk into the room, stripping off as he went. By the time he was climbing onto the bed he was down to a nice pair of black boxer briefs they'd provided. He caressed himself slowly through them, very aware of the camera.

“That's good,” Neil said. “Tilt your hips up a bit?” Nicky complied. He was getting a little harder, he supposed, but it all felt mechanical. He certainly wasn't turned on, not with three crew members in the room, two on camera and one holding a boom above his head.

“Do you want some Viagra?”

“I'm okay.” He'd never taken one before and didn't want to risk having to go home with a stiffy if Mark and Kian were still in. He had a feeing they would be. He'd probably have to sterilise the flat.

Not that that particular thought was helping things.

Sexy thoughts. Right. He closed his eyes for a second and thought about faking a moan, but didn't trust himself to do it convincingly. One of his ex-girlfriends had always made a lot of noise, had sounded like she was faking even though she wasn't. She'd been a good sort. Ruby. Nicky had gone out with her for almost three months.

Firecracker in the bedroom, though. Lots of red hair, and yes the carpet had definitely matched the drapes. The kind of lass who'd sit on your face and demand she get off before you did.

That thought in mind, he opened his eyes, stared down a camera that was definitely focused on him. There was lube next to the fleshlight, so he cracked that open. It smelled nice, warm and cinnamonny. He warmed it in his hand, groaning softly when he closed his hand around his cock, feeling it slide, hot and tingly.

He slid down the pillows a little more, trying to focus past the camera. Slick heat, the smell of lube, and that time she'd pulled him into a bathroom at a club and had him go down on her. God, that'd been a good one. Her fingernails biting into his scalp, his hand moving in his own jeans.

He tried to match that rhythm now. Closed his eyes and tilted his head back, groaning. Neil quietly asked him to lift his knee, so he did. Flopped the other one out, hard and exposed. He touched his nipple, making slow circles, shuddering at the shock of tingling lube on sensitive flesh.

She'd come with a hoarse cry, just about yanked out two handfuls of hair. Then she'd been on her feet, bent over the toilet while he'd pulled himself out, awkwardly rolled on a condom, and slid in. She'd been wet. So wet. Crying out while he'd grabbed her hips and found a rhythm, watching himself... watching her...

He grabbed the fleshlight, ran his finger around the hole, then pushed it in. It was tight, soft and tense at the same time. Transparent. He looked down the camera. Eye contact. Neil had told him eye contact was good. Make it feel like you wanted whoever was watching to give you a hand.

“Oh...” He didn't have to fake a moan when he slid it on. Just the tip, just to test, but... “Oh god yeah,” he gasped. Fuck, he was definitely taking this home. Slid it down slowly, hips fucking up in small jerks, able to see himself pushing into it through the clear plastic casing.

“ _Nicky...”_ she'd gasped. _“That's it. Harder...”_ He did, snapping his hips up, head tipping back. _“Yes...”_ And fuck, he had, because how could you fucking _not?_

“ _Harder...”_ Mark's voice, breaking on a breathless croak. _“Fuck me... harder...”_

Nicky groaned. No. That wasn't helping. Stupid Mark and stupid Kian, shagging like rabbits on the other side of paper thin walls. The look on Mark's face when Nicky announced he'd gotten a job. He'd felt warm at that look, pleased and proud, even if he wasn't going to tell Mark what the job actually was. Because Mark believed in him. Was the only person who seemed to. His parents loved him, of course, but he always got the feeling that they'd accepted the fact that he wasn't ever going to be something to brag to their friends about. He was average. He got along. He did okay.

Mark looked at him like he knew this wasn't all Nicky was.

And then he'd heard it, a hand slapping down. He wondered whether that was a thing Mark liked. Getting spanked. He'd certainly seemed to enjoy it the night before, had made soft, crying yelps. He wondered if Mark was as pale all over as Nicky thought, whether the rest of him flushed like his cheeks did when he was embarrassed. It was a cute thing Mark did. Nicky ribbed him for it all the time.

God, this fucking fleshlight was the _business._ Ribbed inside, drumming over him while he went harder, snuck a hand down to roll his balls. Hissed in pleasure, grinding slowly.

“God yeah,” he muttered. “God. Oh. Fuck.” The camera was tilted up, moving closer while he thrust. Neil could do whatever. He didn't care. He looked down at the camera, tried to think how to look like he was probably supposed to, but shit, shit, shit.

He pulled it off, missing it horribly, but they'd talked about this before. Cumshot. Didn't want it all to disappear into a plastic tube. Took over with his hand and tried to pick up that thought. Ruby bent over that fucking toilet and looking over her shoulder while he'd reached around in front, her face crumpling and him realising she was going to go again, feeling her shiver around him and fuck, fuck, yes, that...

“ _Harder...”_ Mark gasped. _“Oh...”_

He came with a croak, head tipped back all the way and hips shoving into his own grip. The camera was... somewhere. He didn't know. Just wanted...

He shivered to a halt, fingers squeezing out the last, feeling the spurts slow until his hand was coated, everything relaxing into the pillows. Then he remembered, looked up, found the camera and grinned exhaustedly, giving it a wave with sticky fingers, dropping a wink.

“Cut.”

“Shit.” He giggled, sinking back. Everyone was already packing up. He lifted his head. “Was that alright?”

“It was good.” Neil didn't look that impressed, but he gave Nicky a smile anyway. “Wet wipe?”

“Cheers.” Neil tossed him the container. He started to clean himself off. “Do I need to like... do any of that again, or?”

“It was fine.” Neil nodded. “Louis'll like it. You give good face.”

“He said.” Nicky bit his lip. “Um.” Neil glanced at him. “Thanks for today, I guess.”

“No problem.” Neil reached out a hand. Nicky shook it with the one that wasn't sticky. “See you round, alright? I've got another shoot in ten minutes. Can you see yourself out?”

Nicky said he could. He tidied himself quickly and pulled his clothes back on, then headed back out to reception, checking in with the girl there to let him know he was done. She got him to sign off, then he was out the door, feeling strangely like it had been an anticlimax. He'd wanked, he was leaving.

He got on the bus, staring out at passing streets and heading for home.

 

*

 

Kian left the next afternoon. Mark walked him to the train station, hands held tightly between them the whole way. He couldn't stop kissing Kian on the platform. Just wanted him to stay, wanted to breathe him in so he'd never go.

“Love you,” Kian murmured when they separated, one foot already on the train.

“Call me when you get home.”

Kian said he would, then he was gone, Mark watching as the train rounded the tracks and disappeared.

When he got back Nicky was unpacking groceries.

“What's this?” Mark stared. There were a lot of groceries.

“I got paid,” Nicky announced. He turned around, grinning. Mark smiled back, not sure what to say.

“How much...?”

“On me.” Nicky winked, pulling out a carton of milk. Proper milk, not the powdered stuff. And pasta. Good fresh stuff, not the dry home-brand spirals they usually used. Eggs. Mark grabbed a bag, going to help, and was surprised when he pulled out tomatoes, two corncobs, spinach, and a large bag of mushrooms.

“Nicky...” He watched Nicky pull out a packet of pork chops. “Are you sure?”

“Too late now.” Mark stepped a little closer. “You gotta make dinner, though. It's been ages since we've had a proper home-cooked meal.”

“What would you like?” He felt numb. Nicky brushed past him on the way to the fridge and started to put away apples and bananas. A few kiwi fruit went in as well. He hadn't had kiwi fruit in...

“Whatever you like.”

“Um.” Mark looked around at the options. There were too many. He grabbed the chops, finally, started to rummage through the vegetable crisper while Nicky opened bags behind him. When he turned around Nicky was opening a new toaster.

“They were on sale,” Nicky said, before Mark could ask. Mark nodded dumbly. He put it down next to the kettle Kian had bought him the day before. Then he started to scoop up all the empty bags, shoving them in the empty toaster box while Mark held the pork chops and vegetables to his chest, not sure what to make of it all.

“Thank you.”

“Just paying you back.” Nicky leaned against the counter. He looked unsure, a little bit proud of himself. Mark put down the food he was holding and pulled him into a hug. A hand clapped his shoulder. “Thanks for everything,” Nicky murmured. “I'm sorry the last few months have been shit.”

“It's fine,” Mark promised. “I...”

They both jumped when the room plunged into abrupt darkness.

Mark sighed and let go, looking for his keys.

“I'll get it.”

 

*

 

Mark was sitting cross-legged on the couch, books spread out in front of him, when Nicky went to bed. Nicky had a feeling he was a little bit behind. The poor kid had started to look anxious the day before, and Nicky knew he was missing classes to spend time with Kian. Nicky supposed he couldn't blame him, Mark hadn't seen Kian in months, but now he looked stressed, was highlighting things with an almost religious fervour, a cup of tea gone cold next to him.

Nicky tipped it out, made him a new one, and said goodnight. Mark mumbled something back, sounding distracted, so Nicky left it and headed through to his bedroom with a full stomach, very glad he'd done groceries. Dinner had been perfect. He was going to take the bills out the next day to get them paid. He'd seen Mark looking nervously at them while he was cooking and knew he was wondering whether they should have spent the money on those instead. Nicky had it sorted though, and at least they could have toast for breakfast now.

He pulled out the contract again, looking at it. He'd meant to talk to Louis that day but hadn't seen him. He had a few questions, wanted to go over a couple of things and see whether it was something he could do. The wank thing had been fine, if odd, and the photos had been okay as well, but it was other stuff. What he'd be expected to do, exactly, and whether he'd have any choice in the matter. He knew he could say no, obviously. They couldn't force him to take it up the arse. But if he was going to sign up for this blog thing he had a good idea that they'd want that eventually, at least to some degree. He supposed he didn't have to. They liked him, he could just keep doing bits here and there, not sign up for anything proper, and at least if he was contracted he was guaranteed work.

And the money was...

The next morning he went down to the local internet café. He was already determined to replace Mark's laptop as soon as he had the money, as well as the TV. He was sick of going down to the local to watch the match. It was fairly quiet in there. He grabbed himself a coffee at the counter and found a computer as far away as possible, with the screen turned so no-one would be able to see.

He logged in, hoping there wasn't a blocker for this sort of thing.

GayLadsXXX.com

It came up no problems. A bit slow, but fine. He almost giggled to himself, remembering only a few months ago coming home completely outraged and Mark laughing at the card in his hand. Completely ridiculous. Now here he was, logging back on and going to the search bar, glancing around to make sure nobody was watching.

His stuff wasn't up yet. He wasn't surprised. He'd only filmed it the day before, and the photos had only been done before the weekend. He found the blogs instead and looked between the three options. Aaron was the first one, the black guy Louis had shown him. Then Blaze, a very cute brunette who couldn't have been nineteen, skinny and almost androgynous, with pursed lips and high cheekbones.

He clicked on the third one, Jax.

He looked like a nice lad. The profile said he was twenty-five and getting his medical degree. Nicky didn't know if that was remotely true, but he looked nice enough. Tall, shaggy blonde hair, and very fit. Abs for days, the kind of arms that looked more like hard work outdoors than slaving away in the gym. The description said he was versatile, nine inches, uncut, and six foot two. His interests included riding his motorcycle, boxing, and cute boys who were up for a good time. Nicky snorted, beginning to scroll down.

The most recent entry was cute. He was excited about a day at the studio, said he was getting to meet Milos for the first time, who he hadn't gotten to play with before. There were a couple of selfies. Both of them pulling faces at the camera, Milos laughing and Jax kissing him on the cheek. It said the video would be up next week, and to subscribe if people wanted to see it, mentioning that Jax was very impressed with how far Milos could get his legs over his head.

He'd done a few more. A solo one was next, using a fleshlight. Nicky had put his own new toy in his bedside drawer, thinking that now he and Mark were a matching set of wankers. He hadn't used it again yet. He wondered if Mark had used his dildo again, though considering Kian had only just left he suspected Mark was quite well fucked for now.

The next one had a video link. Nicky hesitated, looking around, then made sure everything was on mute and pressed play.  
Even without sound it was... interesting. Nicky didn't know what he'd expected, exactly. He'd seen enough straight porn to know the gist. This was basically the same. Some cute bike messenger came to deliver a package, Jax answered the door dripping wet and in a towel, which he dropped pretty quickly. Then the bike messenger came in and they ended up humping on the sofa.

Nicky watched Jax flip the guy onto his front. He was a big guy, looked strong and confident while he basically manhandled his new friend, yanked his hips up, and sank a tongue into his arse. The bike messenger had lost his pants already, but his shirt was still on. Not that it was much of a shirt. Nicky wasn't sure if it was company protocol to wear your uniform that tight. He was sure he was overthinking it.

Right, so rimming. He didn't want to do that. He wasn't sure about how he felt having it done to him either, figured he'd want to shower for about a week before he didn't feel self-conscious about that one.

The lad seemed to be enjoying it, though, and Jax seemed quite pleased, too. Even with his mouth hidden by arse cheeks Nicky could see the shape of a cheeky smirk etched into his face. The bike messenger was stroking himself, pushing back. Nicky glanced around himself again, but the place was still fairly empty. He leaned a little closer, watching Jax climb back up, grab a handy condom, and roll it on. Then he spread lube on his hand, stroked himself, and pushed in. Just like that. Didn't finger the guy, didn't do anything else, just slid straight on into his arse like a pipecleaner down an s-bend.

Ow. Fucking ow.

Nicky knew there'd probably been some other stuff going on. They'd probably filmed that bit a few times, cut to do prep or... or whatever you needed to do to your arse before you put a cock in there. Nicky had had one girlfriend who'd done it, not that he'd really asked. She'd just said he could and he figured it wasn't an offer you were going to get very often, so he'd said yes. It had taken a while, though, and frankly the idea of putting fingers in her arse before he'd fucked her had been the weirdest part. She'd been clean enough, but he'd been sure the whole time that he was about to come out with shit under his fingernails.

She'd seemed to enjoy it. It had certainly been different. They'd used a ton of lube, and he hadn't been entirely sure he wasn't hurting her, even though he'd gone really slowly. It had been tighter than he was used to, but in a way that was less flexible. He didn't know that he'd enjoyed it all that much, actually. It had been more nerve-wracking than anything. At least you knew where you were with minge.

The bike messenger was having a good time. Jax pulled out, flipped him over again, and pushed back in, tugging the lad up until he was straddling Jax's hips, knees planted on the couch and happily riding him. They did it in a few other positions. At one point Jax pulled out and went down on him, slurping happily while the lad fucked his mouth, then climbed back up, bent him over the sofa, and went back in. He pulled out at the last moment, came all over his new friend's back, then turned him over and sucked him off, letting it flood down his chin while the bike messenger gasped and arched in pleasure.

And... that was it. Nicky glanced down. Just over twenty minutes all up, not very long at all. His cheeks were on fire, eyes darting around the room, but no-one had noticed. He went back to the blog and started to scroll down again.

The rest was more of the same. Two more where Jax was topping, another one where he was taking it. Another solo video. A threesome. And... that was about it, stretching back just over a month. Though they had said it was a new company, so that made sense, he supposed.

He made sure he'd logged out of everything and left the café.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

 

*

 

Mark almost fell asleep on the bus ride home. It was early in the evening and he'd already had a shift at the restaurant before his afternoon class, had left before Nicky had gotten up. He'd peered into Nicky's bedroom, intending to say goodbye, but Nicky had been fast asleep, the covers pulled up around his chin and hair all over the place. Mark had smiled fondly, glad that Nicky was getting some sleep. Neither of them had slept well in the past couple of months, not with everything going wrong, and Nicky deserved it.

He ate a piece of peanut butter toast on the way to the bus, enjoying the simple luxury of it. He'd already decided to pay Nicky back, somehow. Mark knew he'd taken the brunt of the bills and things over the last few months, but this was above and beyond. Nicky couldn't be making that much at his new job, and Mark appreciated the thought. But that was Nicky all over.

Nicky was out when he got in. He collapsed on the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and closed his eyes, knowing he needed to get his books out and start studying but that he couldn't be bothered. It was late, and he was tired. Bills needed paying, he needed to make dinner, and all of it just sounded way too hard.

Before he knew it he was asleep.

 

*

 

Nicky sat in Louis' office, the contract heavy in his lap.

“I saw your solo work the other day,” Louis commented. Nicky had just sat down. A cup of tea was steaming in front of him. Louis was drinking a coffee, looked a little tired, but his usual cheerful self. “It was good. You get your pay alright?”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. It had dropped in quickly, only a few hours after he'd finished the scene. “Um.” He looked down at the contract again, wrapped in Mark's blue folder. He'd read it about a thousand times, still wasn't entirely sure what he was getting into. Most of it was about things like image, payment, practice and policy. It was very dry, certainly not the sort of thing that suggested fucking for money.

“I've got another boy for the blog,” Louis said. “Nice lad, signed him yesterday. Got one spot left.” He glanced toward Nicky's lap. Nicky's hands tightened on the folder. “You still interested?”

“...yes.” Nicky admitted. Even after watching that video, the money was still really tempting. And hell, if a girl could take it up the arse he could probably grit his teeth and bear it as well. It wasn't the pain he was worried about, entirely. Maybe it was some stupid hangup, like by taking it up the arse he was doing a disservice to his masculinity or something. Which he knew was objectively stupid, but...

“Ronan, right?”

“That's it, yeah.” Nicky pulled out the contract, putting it carefully on the desk. “So. Right. Look...” He looked down at the bundle of paper. “I've never been um... fucked before. Or done any of that. So I was wondering...”

“If you have to?” Nicky nodded.

“Just... I mean...”

“Nicky.” Louis folded his hands on the desk, leaning forward slightly. “Look, this is a job. I like you. I think you've got a good look, and I think you've got a lot of talent. If you want to be a top, you can carve out that niche. That's your business. But this is mine and I'm selling you. You need to be able to sell the site and the product, and some of the product is going to need you to put things up your arse, or I can't make sponsorship deals. If you won't do something, I can't offer you scenes. If I've got a gang-bang going and you hand me a list of things you won't do then I can't book you for that, which means I can't pay you.”

“Right.” Nicky nodded, feeling himself go pink. That made sense.

“You're here to get lads off and make us money. If you can't do that, I have to offer the gig to someone else.”

“Oh.” Nicky looked at the contract. “So I could just top, then?”

“You can do anything you want. You can freelance. If you want to do solo gigs, that's fine. If you want to do shoots, or get your dick sucked or any of that, that's up to you. But if it's not what I'm shooting, I'm not going to need you. I can get anyone to jerk themselves off. What I need is someone who can show up on the day, do what he's told, and not throw a tantrum. If you sign this...” He patted the contract. “It means you understand that you have a job, and that I won't pay you if you can't do that job. It'd be like if I was putting a boyband together, and then you decided you didn't want to sing. What would be the point? What would I do, put you in the back and have you sway on the spot and look pretty?”

“I can sing.”

“Can you fuck?”

“I...” Nicky swallowed. “Four months?”

“Four months.” Louis nodded. “It's up to you.”

Nicky let out a slow breath and closed his eyes. Trying to think. Trying to...

Fuck it. If Mark could take it up the arse, so he could he.

He grabbed a pen and flipped to the last page, scribbling his name down before he could think about it.

“I'm in.” He pushed the contract back across the desk. Louis reached out a hand.

“We'll start setting it up.” Nicky shook his hand, feeling his stomach knot. Louis beamed at him. “Welcome aboard.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Mark had to rub his eyes a few times when he got up the next morning to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. He'd fallen asleep on the couch, had woken up to Nicky shaking him gently, and had let himself be pushed through to the bedroom before crashing out again, smiling when Nicky tugged the blanket up over him.

Now he was standing in the bedroom door, trying to figure out if Nicky was actually doing sit-ups in their living room.

“Nicky?”

“Hey,” Nicky said breathlessly, heaving himself up again. They weren't the best sit-ups, but they were definitely sit-ups. “Morning.”

“What are you doing?”

“Sit-ups,” Nicky replied, voice coming out quick and strained. “Up to forty.”

“Why?”

“Exercise.”

“Right...” Mark sat down on the sofa, looking down at him. He was wearing trainers, a t-shirt, and a pair of gym shorts. He was a bit flushed, but he grinned up at Mark. Mark smiled back in confusion. “This happen often?” He knew he'd been out a lot with uni and work, but this was still a surprise.

“Sometimes. Making an effort.”

“Okay.” He leaned his chin in his hand to watch. A few seconds later Nicky stopped and flopped onto his back, panting. Then he rolled over and started doing push-ups. Mark blinked. He hoped he wasn't expected to do the same. “Um... want breakfast?”

“I had an apple.”

“...okay.” He crossed his legs on the seat, waiting. Eventually Nicky stopped and stood up, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Are you broken or something?”

“No.” He started doing star jumps. “Going for a run in a minute. Want to come?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.” The star jumps stopped. Nicky raked a hand through his hair, grinning, chest heaving and face red. “I've got work today. What are you up to?”

“Um...” Mark gestured at the textbooks on the coffee table. “Study for a couple of hours, then head into work. I'm on until six. When will you get back?”

“Not sure. Later.” Nicky started to stretch, pulling his arms across his body.

“How's the job?”

“Not sure yet. Seems alright.” He swung one arm over the back of his head, pushing down on a bent elbow. “I'm gonna head off. Have a good day, alright?”

“Okay. You... too.” He watched Nicky shove keys in his pocket and head for the door, tugging a baseball cap on as he went. “Nicky?”

“Yeah.” Nicky glanced back over his shoulder, hand on the doorknob.

“I'm um...” He smiled, saw Nicky smile back. “I'm happy for you.”

Nicky paused, then crossed the living room again, bending down to pull Mark into a hug.

“We're gonna be okay,” he said. Mark nodded. He hadn't thought they wouldn't, really, but he had been worried he'd have to go back to student housing. That he'd have to leave Nicky, especially. He knew they were friends, knew they'd see each other, but Nicky was his constant. Kian was four hours away, school was it's own special confusion, he had no idea what his future was going to be, but Nicky was always there.

“I know.” Mark hugged him a little tighter. “I've got your back, okay? If there's anything you need...”

“Let me take care of it for a bit.” Nicky squeezed, then let go. “But thanks.”

He jogged out the door.

Mark locked it behind him, then went to make some breakfast, a textbook open on the counter beside him.

 

*

 

Nicky had gotten a call early that morning, asking if he'd like to come in at three and do some publicity shots. He and the other boys. It was an odd thought. He'd watched Jax fucking on camera, and here he was about to go in and meet the other lads. It was being set up at Louis' house, an easy place to do it at short notice, but Louis had said he wanted to get things off the ground as quickly as possibly now he had the roster filled out.

Mark had still been asleep. Nicky had hung up the phone, sat on the bed, and quietly started to panic. Tried to remember when he'd last been to the bloody gym. Before he knew it he was standing in front of his bedroom mirror, peering at himself and thinking that he was a bit soft around the middle, that his arms weren't exactly defined. He was sort of thin, had looked quite good in the shots, but the other lads were _perfect_. Muscles and rounded arses and flirty looks. He didn't...

Now he was running down the street, breathless and thinking this was the worst possible way to spend a morning. Thinking he'd have to get himself a gym membership as soon as he had the money, maybe a personal trainer. He'd be able to do that, he supposed. He'd already picked out their new TV.

But no, that was getting ahead of himself. Do this first. Do the shots, see where that led. It was only four months, and if they didn't keep him on it'd be over as quickly as it started. He needed to save, make sure he kept everything in case they didn't renew him. Or if it turned out that he couldn't, in fact, do it after all. Just play the part for four months. Be what they wanted, and...

He rounded the corner, chest burning. By the time he made it back to the flat almost an hour had passed and Mark was on the way out, waving at him distractedly and fiddling with his keys. Nicky said goodbye and jumped into the shower, leaning his head against the tiles and trying to think.

He opened his eyes, looking down. At his cock, which was soft under the hot water. Staring at it like he'd never seen it before. It was okay, he supposed. Bigger than average. His pubes were tidy enough. He'd never been particularly hairy to start with. His arse was...

He ran a finger up his crack, biting his lip. Not too bad. He supposed he should get it waxed, really. Nobody else on the site had had a hairy arse, and it was probably polite anyway. If someone was going to potentially stick their tongue back there. Which had not been a potential thing until now, but there it was.

Nicky ran a finger over his hole while it was back there, just testing. Not something he'd thought he'd do either, and he held his breath a little, not sure what he thought was going to happen. Whether it was going to suddenly fart out glitter now he was doing this severely gay thing. It just puckered under his touch, and he focused, pressing a little bit harder, trying to relax.

The tip went in, even though it didn't want to. It was _tight,_ too. Not just tight, more like it was actively saying 'not a chance, buddy'. He pushed a little harder. Almost rigid walls, hotter than he'd expected. He pushed in a little bit further, wincing.

He pulled it out, looked at it hesitantly. It seemed clean. He washed it under the water. It hadn't hurt as such, now that he thought about it. Hadn't really been much of anything. Not unpleasant, but not pleasant either. He didn't see the point, exactly, though he supposed it was all context. Girls didn't go around getting turned on by using a tampon, and putting a finger up his arse when he was pretty ambivalent about the idea wasn't going to give him a screaming orgasm.

When he climbed out of the shower the bathroom was thick with steam. Nicky got dressed, then sat down on the sofa, staring at the floor.

Right. Okay.

He picked up his phone and asked directory assistance for the closest waxing place.

He left a few minutes later, shoving his wallet in his back pocket.

 

*

 

Mark was out the back of the restaurant, in the smoking area. Not that he smoked – he couldn't afford to even if he wanted to – but he couldn't get any bars in the staff room and he'd wanted to call Kian.

“Hey, babe.” Kian's voice had a smile in it. Mark smiled back.

“Hi. Missed you.”

“Did you?” Kian chuckled. He could hear someone talking the background. “It's Mark!” Kian called out.

“Hi Mark!” he heard Shane call. They both laughed.

“Hi, Shane!” Mark teased.

“He says hi!” Kian called back. “We're going camping.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Shane got it stuck in his head. Lad's camping trip. He's invited a bunch of... Shane, we don't need that many first aid kits!” Kian groaned. “Fuck, why do I think this is going to be more trouble than it's worth?”

“Because it's Shane,” Mark snorted. He wished he was there, though. They been camping a lot when they were younger, setting up pup tents in Kian's backyard and giggling until the early morning. Then when they were older, going down to the river and building a campfire, drinking beer Shane's older brother had bought them in secret. It had been lots of fun, playing cards and toasting marshmallows, shoving each other into the water and trying to fish, but failing miserably and getting the lines caught in the bushes.

“He wants to make it like... a regular thing.”

“So, you'll do it twice before he loses interest?”

“Basically, yeah,” Kian sighed. “Why don't you come next time? We were talking about the first week of holidays. Just for a couple of nights.”

“I'd like to,” Mark admitted. It would probably be okay. He could rearrange his work roster, and he wouldn't need to be at class. Plus with Nicky's new job they'd be a bit more stable by then. “Let me know when you fix a date, okay?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Kian sounded excited already. “What are you doing?”

“Lunchbreak.”

“It's probably more fun than...” Kian sighed. “Fuck, he's got a gas cylinder. If I die, can you delete my search history? My mam doesn't need to see what I wank to.”

“She's already met me.”

“Ha.” There was a long pause. Mark settled the phone closer to his ear. “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Just...” Kian's voice went a little softer. “I love you. Okay?”

“I know.”

“Yeah,” Kian sighed. Mark felt his stomach twist and wasn't sure why. “Okay, well. I have to go. Have a good day.”

“Have a good trip,” Mark replied. “I love you too. So much.” He glanced around, at the dirty alley that smelled of cigarette smoke. He could hear the scrape of cutlery inside, the rattle of plates, people talking, and all of a sudden he had no idea what he was doing there. Not when Kian was so far away, warm and soft and missing him and loving him and...

“I will. Call you when I get back?”

“Yes please.” He took a deep breath, let it slowly back out. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.” The call ended. Mark stared at the screen for a long time.

He shoved the phone in his pocket and went back inside.

 

*

 

“That's it...” Glenn shuffled sideways a little bit, crouching down lower. Nicky shifted slightly. He was starkers, his arm around Jax's shoulders and Aaron knelt at his feet. It was quite fun, he supposed. So ridiculous he couldn't be self-conscious. He'd gotten there last, found the other four hanging out by Louis' pool, chatting and laughing.

The waxing had been... an experience. His arse was still stinging a bit. He hadn't done his balls, but he'd had them shaved, which had been maybe the most traumatic thing he'd ever been through, waiting for that moment of startling agony that announced that he was never having kids. They'd waxed around his pubes too, done them a bit neater. The girl who'd sorted him had been an absolute trooper. He hadn't been able to look her in the eye by the end.

“Leo, can you just turn...” Glenn motioned. On Jax's other side, Leo moved a little closer, shifting in behind Blaze, who was crouched in front. “Perfect. Thank you. Ronan, tilt your chin down and then look up at me? That's gorgeous, honey.”

They'd introduced him as Ronan from the get go. He'd never met the others, just Louis and Glenn, so he supposed it made sense. In a way it was comforting. He was Ronan, not Nicky. Nicky was going to go home after this and maybe make a start on dinner. Ronan was the one flirting with the camera, reaching down with one hand and wrapping it around his cock when Glenn asked him to. This was Ronan's problem.

The new guy, Leo, seemed pretty cool. He definitely didn't wax, was hairy chested with narrow hips and thick thighs. They'd definitely gone for a variety of lads. Jax was sporty and fit, Leo was definitely the manly, lumberjack type. Blaze was pale, skinny and pretty, almost jailbait. A twink, or whatever it was called. Aaron was funny, cheerful, a bit older, and hung like a fucking horse, and Nicky was the boy next door. He didn't know how he felt about that, but these lads were fit. He supposed he was flattered.

His arse still sort of stung, though.

They got the group shots done after an hour or so. It was warm out here, even with the shadecloth over the patio. Louis' house was ridiculous. From what Brian had said he'd expected something smaller, like Louis was struggling or something, but this place was huge. Just on the outskirts of Dublin, and bigger than their apartment building, all white stone. The pool was larger than their flat.

They started to do a few solo shots. Blaze went first, going over to sit on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water. Nicky found a place to sit on a lounger out of the way, watching, a towel around his waist. Trying to take it all in.

“Hey.” He looked up when Leo sank down on the lounger beside him. He'd tugged on a pair of shorts, smiled cheerfully. “Ronan, right?” Nicky nodded.

“Hi.” They shook hands. “You done much of this before?”

“A bit, yeah.” He twisted the lid off the bottle of water and took a sip. “I was doing modelling. Still am, I guess.” He laughed. “It wasn't really going anywhere, and this pays better, so... Someone I know knows Louis, put me in touch.”

“I've never...” Nicky glanced back over at Blaze, who was flirting with the camera, one leg hitched up on the side of the pool. “It's different. I have no idea what I'm doing, honestly.”

“You'll be fine,” Leo assured him. “I will say this for Louis, but he knows how to pick 'em.” Nicky watched green eyes flick up and down, appraising him. “What do you do?”

“I don't know yet,” Nicky admitted. “I did a solo video last week, and I did a shoot with Milos. Do you know...?” Leo nodded. “Yeah, and that's it. I've never even um...” He swallowed. “I'm straight.”

“I'm not,” Leo laughed. “Been with my boyfriend six years.”

“He doesn't mind?”

“He's the lad who got me in. He's been doing this two years.”

“You didn't mind?”

“Not really.” Leo shrugged. “He wanted to do it, it was good money. It's not sex, it's porn. It's like acting, but with fucking. It doesn't mean anything.” He glanced up. Aaron was just wandering over, a lemonade in his hand. “Aaron, we got another straight boy.”

“Oh, brilliant.” Aaron snorted, sinking down next to Leo on the same lounger.

“Aaron's straight too,” Leo explained. “We did some stuff a while back for another site. Good times.”

“Which one were you?” Aaron deadpanned. They both laughed. “You're the new guy, right? Louis said you hadn't done much before.” Nicky shook his head. “Welcome, I guess.”

“Thanks.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Um... not sure?” Nicky winced. “I'm sort of...” He breathed out slowly, feeling his cheeks go pink. “Bit of a virgin,” he mumbled.

“Oh.” Aaron covered his mouth to hide a snigger. Nicky felt himself go redder.

“Not like, with girls,” he explained. “Just...”

“Never taken a plum in your pudding?”

“No.” Nicky giggled with surprise. Leo laughed.

“I like that one. My favourite's still 'sneaking past backstage security'.”

“Sinking a putt from the rough,” Aaron countered.

“Drilling in mud,” Leo laughed. “Going for the bronze.”

“Spearing the chocolate starfish.” They all looked up. Jax grinned, stood over them with a towel around his waist.

“Uphill gardening!” Aaron announced.

“Playing through the back nine,” Jax laughed. He sat down next to Nicky, who was bright red and wanting quietly to die, but laughing too hard to care. Leo was still giggling away, had a surprisingly high laugh for such a large man. “What are we talking about?”

“Ronan's a cherry.”

“Oh, sweetie!” Nicky started as arms wrapped around him. A kiss pressed to his temple. “Look at you, you're like a unicorn.” Jax held him back again, appraising him. Nicky scowled, got a grin in reply. “Never had a boy in your zone?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Nicky mumbled. They all laughed. “My room-mate's gay,” he said. Aaron rolled his eyes. “I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing, really,” he admitted. “Um.” He looked over. Blaze was just finishing up, was reaching for a towel and a bottle of water. Louis and Glenn were talking quietly.

“It's not that bad.” A hand covered his. Aaron. Nicky nodded. “Seriously. You'll build it all up as this crazy thing, but it isn't. Shit, my wife was pegging me before I even got into this. She said if I wanted to give one to her then I had to go first. So I did. Honestly, once you get past the hangups it feels really good. You get used to it.”

“Yeah, I know.” He didn't really, but it sounded comforting.

“Give you some advice?” Nicky nodded. “Don't do it the first time on camera. Do it with someone else. Someone you trust, maybe, or even just a hooker or someone. You can pay them to go slow, to do it at your speed. I can give you the number of a really good agency if you like.”

“I'll... keep that in mind.” Nicky bit his lip, was about to ask more, when Louis called his name. “Thanks lads. Really, I...” He stood, waving uselessly at them, and started to head over. He passed Blaze on the way, going to take his place on the lounger. When he looked back over the four of them were chatting, occasionally looking over at him.

Nicky swallowed, took a deep breath, and sat down by the edge of the pool, smiling up at the camera.

 

*

 

Nicky was quiet. Mark sat on the other end of the sofa, going through his notes. He'd made dinner, just a quick risotto, and Nicky had eaten it mechanically, made it halfway through the bowl before putting it down.

Now he had his chin rested in one hand, staring blankly at the spot where the TV had once been.

Mark looked back down at his notes. Exams were starting in a few weeks, then holidays. He was dreading it. Looking forward to holidays, obviously, especially now it looked like he might be going on this camping trip with Kian and the lads, but he felt like he'd studied to the point where none of it made sense. He knew the coursework inside out. There was no reason to fail. But he just knew that once he sat down in that big room, settled into one of two hundred identical chairs, it was all going to fall right out of his head and onto the carpet.

He picked up a pen, started to make a couple of notes in the margin of his workbook. Nicky was still staring into space.

“Nicky?”

“Mm?” Nicky looked over, blue eyes clearing slightly. Mark forced a smile.

“You okay?”

“I'm okay.” Nicky nodded. “Sorry. Half asleep.”

“How was work?”

“Yeah, it was...” He trailed off, shrugging, then turned back to stare at where the TV wasn't. Mark sat up, putting his books aside, and put a hand on his shoulder. Nicky looked at him again. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Mark squeezed his shoulder. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I'm okay.”

“Nicky...” Mark let go of his shoulder. “I know when something's up. You barely ate, and now you look like you've seen a ghost.” He saw Nicky shift awkwardly. “What's wrong?”

“Just... thinking.” Nicky shrugged. “It's okay. Um.” He glanced towards the kitchen. “I'm gonna go pay those bills tomorrow.”

“Oh, cool.” Mark reached for his wallet. “I've got my half.” He started to pull out notes. They'd stopped putting the cash on the fridge after the burglary. Mark knew Nicky had started double- and triple-checking the lock too. Mark was getting a bit obsessive about it as well, had gotten halfway to the bus stop more than once and run back home to make sure the flat was definitely locked. “Here.” He handed it to Nicky, who took it, nodding.

“Thanks.”

“It's cool.” He sat back again, picking up his books. “If you want to talk about it...”

“I'm okay.” Nicky stood up. “Gonna have a shower and get an early one.” He patted Mark's shoulder on the way past. The door closed behind him.

Mark turned back to his books, pulling his knees closer to his chest.

 

*

 

The internet café was a little busier today. Nicky found a quiet spot in the corner and settled in with a cup of coffee. He'd thought about getting a muffin, but decided against it. He couldn't go risking putting on weight. Not now. It had been salads and exercise for the last four days, ever since that photoshoot. The other lads had been fit. He wasn't going to risk being the weak link.

He found the website, was all ready to click the search bar, when he stopped. Blinked.  
There it was, on the front page.

He stared. That was him, naked and leaning on Jax's shoulder, Aaron crouched in front of him. All five of them stood together by the side of the pool, smiling and laughing, the sun striking the water in front of them.

 _Meet the Lads_ it said. He clicked the link.

And... there it all was. In living colour, right there on the computer screen. There were a few shots of them together. He skimmed the article quickly, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. There was one of the five of them in the pool, shoving and splashing. They'd done that last, so they wouldn't ruin their hair for the other photos. Jax was doing a cannonball, frozen in the air behind them, while Nicky and Blaze wrestled and the other two stood with their arms around each other.

He found the bit about himself, feeling his cheeks flush when he read it.

_Ronan West is a straight boy gone rogue, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a great ass. His parents wouldn't approve at all, and that's the way he likes it. He can't wait to let the boys at GayLadsXXX see what he can do with that monster ten inch cock, and explore all those desires he was never allowed with his sheltered family upbringing. He still goes to church every Sunday, but every other day of the week he's finding out just how much boys turn him on, fucking every tight hole he can._

“Oh my god,” Nicky muttered, burying his face in his hands to hide the blush. He peeked up over his fingers, groaning when he saw the picture of him winking at the camera, one hand on his cock, the other to his mouth, two fingers sucked in. It was obscene. It looked fucking great, but it was obscene.

Fucking hell.

Fucking fucking hell.

He scrolled down a little more. It was all from yesterday. The other stuff he'd done hadn't been uploaded yet. But...

_Subscribe to watch Ronan's first solo video this Friday!_

There it was.

Fuck.

He went to log off. He'd had enough of looking at it, didn't think he could do it any longer without his face bursting into flames. Then he paused, shuffled his chair in a little further, and went to check his back account.

He logged in quickly, scrolling down until he found his savings.

Oh.

Nicky giggled to himself, one hand over his mouth.

Oh shit.

He logged out and grabbed his coffee, heading for the bus stop.

 

*

 

Mark stared at the laptop.

“You like it?”

“It's...” Mark squinted. It was sleek and grey, sitting on the sofa with a big pink bow stuck on top. Mark swallowed, trying to make sense of it all. “We can't afford this.”

“Sure we can.”

“But...” He had a sudden, horrible thought. “You paid the bills, right?”

“I paid the bills.”

“Oh.” Mark scratched the back of his neck. “Erm... how much was it?”

“Doesn't matter.” Nicky waved the question away. That was more disconcerting than anything, when they'd spent too many nights sitting around the table going over every cent, trying to make things stretch. “There ya go. Knock yourself out.” He beamed. Mark didn't know what to make of any of it.

“Nicky, I...” He sat down. “Nicky... this new job...” He watched Nicky's smile falter a little, stomach twisting. “It's nothing illegal, is it? Like...” He looked at the laptop. “You said you were just running errands and stuff...”

“It's not illegal.” Nicky rolled his eyes. Something was wrong, though. Nicky was brushing him off, talking too fast. “Of course not. I wouldn't do something illegal.”

“Yeah. I know.” Did he, though? They'd been doing really badly, been quite desperate, and Nicky did tend to go off half-cocked, his heart in things before his brain could catch up. “What magazine did you say it was?”

“Just this thing. It's a start up.” Nicky's cheeks were going a little bit pink. Mark didn't like it. “You don't like the laptop? Fine, I can take it back.”

“I didn't mean...”

“Then why are you asking so many questions?”

“I just want to know where you work.”

“I told you where I work.”

“You didn't,” Mark pointed out. Nicky crossed his arms. “Nicky, I'm worried about you. You're all over the place and you won't tell me...” He sighed. “Just... talk to me, okay? I thought we were friends. You can talk to me.”

“We _are_ friends.” Nicky sank down on the couch. “I thought you'd like it.”

“I do like it. I just don't know if...”

“Thank you, Nicky. I like the laptop,” Nicky drawled sarcastically. “I'm glad I have a friend like you.”

“I am...”

“Just...” Nicky opened it up. It was nice, too. Booted up almost immediately, the screen clear and bright. “It's got a DVD player, so we can watch something tonight if you want. Want to pick a movie?”

“I don't...” Mark sighed, sitting back on the sofa and crossing his arms. There was no point trying to argue. Nicky's mouth was a hard line, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes glaring into the distance. “It's up to you. I'm um...” He felt tears prick his eyes. “I don't know. I'm gonna go make dinner, okay?” He wasn't really hungry, but cooking did tend to make him feel better, at least. It was something he knew how to do, something that made sense. He supposed that was why he tended to be an emotional eater – he'd get upset, so he'd cook, and the food had to go somewhere. One time when he and Kian had been fighting he'd gone through about four batches of chocolate chip cookies.

He stood up and went to the kitchen. Nicky put on a DVD. He watched it out of the corner of his eye while he threw together a casserole and put it in the oven. By the time he sat back down he felt a little bit more together. Nicky glanced over at him.

Mark glanced back, then reached out, squeezing Nicky's shoulder.

“I like the laptop,” he murmured. Nicky nodded but didn't look at him. “I trust you. I do. It's just...”

“So trust me,” Nicky said flatly. Mark squeezed his shoulder again.

“Okay.” He let go. “But you can talk to me.”

Nicky got up to go to the bathroom a few minutes later. He passed behind the couch as he went, and when he did he tousled Mark's hair, just gently. Mark watched him go, not sure what to think.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The hill was bloody enormous. Nicky pushed himself, feeling his lungs burn, his thighs ache as he charged up it, closing his eyes for a second to centre himself. It was early. He had a shoot late that morning and had wanted to get some exercise in. He'd gone for a run the night before, as well. Then he'd waited until Mark had gone to bed and dug a set of old weights out from the bottom of his closet, had stayed up for about an hour doing bicep curls and squats.

He ached, but it was a good kind of ache. He knew he'd probably be sore the next day and was hoping he'd be alright this afternoon. He'd used to be quite fit, back when he'd been in highschool, but he hadn't done any of this in a while. Too much beer and too many crisps.

He rounded the top of the hill and tried to keep his momentum up, turning right and starting to jog back towards the flat. His shirt was soaked with sweat. Knees wobbly as he started to flag. By the time he ran up the stairs he was just about done, stumbling in the front door and trying to catch his breath.

Mark looked up, smiling.

“Morning.”

“Hey,” Nicky panted. Mark had still been asleep when he'd gone, but he was sitting on the sofa in his pyjamas now, watching cartoons on the laptop. He hadn't mentioned it again. Neither had Nicky. Nicky knew he'd been defensive, but he didn't see why Mark had to ask so many damn questions. Nicky had expected an excited hug and a thank you, not an interrogation.

That was Mark, though. He was the sensible one. Not a pessimist, exactly, but he always had questions about why things were the way they were. Couldn't just take them at face value and be glad that it was a nice thing.

He sank down on the couch, laughing when Mark shoved him.

“You stink!”

“Breathe it in.” He leaned over, raising his arm and trying to shove his pit into Mark's face. Mark laughed, shoving him again. Nicky stuck his tongue out.

“Good run?”

“Yeah.” It had been, actually. His legs were jelly now, but it had been nice getting out, throwing his thoughts out the window and just focusing on getting through it.

“Breakfast?”

“I'll just have some fruit.” He sank back into the cushions a little bit, closing his eyes. He'd have to do a proper warm-down, stop himself from cramping up, but for a second he just needed to catch his breath. “You working tonight?”

“No.”

“Want to go out? Couple of drinks?” He saw Mark go to protest. “On me,” he added. “It's been a shit couple of months. Let's go have some fun.”

“I don't want you paying.”

“Fine. I'll get stuck into the cocktails and you can drink water,” Nicky teased. Mark scowled. “Not a big one. We deserve it. You can congratulate me on getting a job, and I can find a way to get in some girl's pants.”

“I thought you were seeing someone?” Mark asked. Nicky was confused. He'd been single a while. “The girl with the terrible blowjobs?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Right. Whoops. “Yeah, I don't know. Think it's just casual, honestly. Haven't seen her in a bit.”

“Oh. Oh well.” Mark nodded. Then his smile turned cheeky. “Did you end up getting one?”

“I did.”

“How was it?”

“Not bad, actually.” It hadn't been. Milos certainly knew what he was doing. “Thanks for the help.”

“I live to serve,” Mark said sarcastically. Nicky smirked. “Couple of drinks?”

“Couple of drinks,” Nicky assured him. “I'll pick you up at eight.”

 

*

 

Nicky left early for work. Mark sat watching a DVD for a while, then switched the laptop off, had a bit of a tidy, and made a start on lunches for work. They had plenty of groceries so he'd started taking advantage, making big batches of pastas and rices and tubbing them up for a few days's meals. By the time he was done it was almost midday and he sat down in front of the laptop again.

It was certainly impressive. Mark didn't quite know what to make of it. Part of him, a part he didn't really want to acknowledge, thought he might be a little bit jealous. Nicky had gone from making nothing to paying all their bills, restocking the fridge, and plonking a brand new expensive laptop into Mark's hands. All while Mark was desperately trying to save and still trying to pay bus fare.

He was happy for Nicky. He was. He just didn't know that this made sense.

What the hell was Nicky doing all day? He worked odd hours. Would leave late in the morning, sometimes not until the afternoon. Some days he wouldn't go out at all, but he still made more than Mark did, slaving away at the restaurant and hoping someone would put down a decent tip.

Some magazine, Nicky had said. Doing errands. But those were the sorts of jobs an intern did, not someone who could afford a computer after a week's work.

He didn't bloody know. He'd said he trusted Nicky. And he did. He didn't think Nicky would do anything wrong, or dangerous, or illegal, but none of this made sense and he didn't know how to make it okay in his head.

He just hoped Nicky wasn't doing anything stupid.

 

*

 

“Oh, fuck yeah...”

This guy was noisy. Nicky kept trying not to laugh, though it was a bit difficult to get anything out when he was on his knees with a dick in his mouth. Louis had called him in, asked if he was interested in filling an empty slot for the afternoon, and Nicky had agreed. Now he was on his hands and knees on a love-seat while some lad threaded fingers in his hair and thrust up gently.

This wasn't so bad, actually. Mark's advice had come a little in handy, but honestly the whole thing was so micromanaged he didn't need much experience past looking good and being enthusiastic. They'd been doing the same blowjob for half an hour now, and twice they'd had to pause so Nicky could get himself up again, just to make sure the continuity matched.

“Chance, can you move your arm please?” They paused while Chance did, slinging his arms over the back of the love-seat. It took the hand out of his hair, which he preferred. It had all felt a bit too controlled.

The taste wasn't bad. Chance was clean, and once he'd convinced himself that it was all just skin after all, it was okay. There was a bit of leak every now and then but he just kind of swallowed past it and pretended it hadn't happened.

“Ronan, jack it a bit? Look like he's turning you on?” Nicky grasped himself, forcing a cheeky smirk while the camera came around, looking down at him. Neil was in charge again. He seemed to do a lot of the video stuff. Glenn was more photography. There was a slightly bigger team today. Lighting guys and a few people on camera. Brian was holding a boom above their heads. It was silly, but Nicky was glad Brian was here. He'd felt a bit out of his league and it was good to have someone a bit normal around the place.

“Cut!” He pulled off, wiping his mouth and settling back up on his knees. Chance was laughing. “Take five, lads. Chance, you good to do anal?” Chance nodded, looking really unperturbed. “You want prep?”

“Give me ten?” Chance stood up and wandered away to the bathroom, grabbing a bottle of lube off the table as he went. Nicky sat down on the love seat, wondering what the hell he was supposed to be doing. The crew were all buzzing about, and Louis and Neil were talking quietly, Louis nodding and gesturing occasionally.

“Ronan?” He looked up. He was getting a little more used to responding to a different name. Louis waved him over to the table in the back.

“Louis. Hey.” He managed a smile. “Everything okay?”

“You're doing fine, lad.” A hand patted his shoulder. Nicky felt a rush of relief. “Your solo video went live an hour ago.”

“Oh, shit.” He checked the clock on the wall. Just after three in the afternoon. They'd been doing this a while. He'd sort of lost track of time. He felt his stomach twist. That was it, then. Done. It was out there, in the big wide world, completely out of his hands. He didn't know if he felt worse or better.

“You want to see?”

“I...” He did. He didn't. “Yeah, okay.” Louis turned the computer screen towards him. He blinked. That was his face, mouth open and eyes dark. It was strange. He glanced down, realised there was a blog entry there written by, apparently, him. “Oh, wow.” He felt his cheeks go red. “Is it... doing alright?”

“Two hundred and eighty downloads already,” Louis announced. Nicky blinked. Over a thousand have viewed the preview clip, and...” He scrolled down. “You've got comments.”

“Huh.” He stared. That didn't seem right. Not at all. But there they were. He couldn't read them all as they scrolled past, but they seemed really encouraging, actually. Not just filthy, though a lot of them were, but there was a lot of praise, too, asking when his next one might be up. He felt his chest swell a bit, not sure why he was so proud of himself. It was mad. He'd never thought he'd be doing this, and now apparently he was good at it. He didn't know what to say.

“Good work, lad.”

“Thanks,” he said carefully. Louis beamed. “Hey... thanks, Louis, yeah? You're mental, but...” He peered at the last comment. It was interested in whether he'd be doing any bondage. He really wasn't. “I appreciate everything.”

“Don't thank me, kid.” Louis nudged him gently. Chance was just coming back out onto the set, looking casual and cheerful, his cock hard and bobbing in front of him. “You ready for this?”

“Yeah.” Nicky was. He was fucking ready. Chance grinned at him. Nicky smiled back.

He was going to fucking well do this. And he was going to be bloody fantastic at it.

 

*

 

Nicky was in a really good mood tonight.

Mark was glad. He had been since he'd come home, bounced into the flat just after seven, and dashed into the bedroom to get dressed up, calling out to Mark that they'd head out in an hour.

Now he was stalking around the club in skintight jeans and dark grey top only done up by the two middle buttons, a silver cross slung around his neck. He looked amazing. Cocky and confident, kept giving girls the eye. Kept giving boys the eye, actually. Basically everyone with a pulse. Mark didn't know what the hell he was on, but it was hilarious to watch.

He'd had a fairly low key day, himself. Had gotten some coursework done, had a nap, and been woken by a text from Kian to let him know that Shane had already lost half the tentpegs.

“Drink?”

“I'm okay!” Mark shouted back. It was bloody loud in here. “Thanks, though.”

“You sure? On me.”

“Sure.” He nudged Nicky with his elbow. “Go buy one for a girl instead, yeah? It's not like you're getting into my pants.”

“I could if I wanted!”

“Not a chance!” Mark laughed. Nicky raised an eyebrow. “Kian'd flatten you."

“He would not! I could take him!”

“He did wrestling in high school!” Nicky still didn't look convinced. “Look, that lass has been giving you the eye for ten minutes. Go shag her.”

“Challenge accepted!” Nicky stalked off. Within a minute he was touching her shoulder, talking a mile a minute while she giggled and blushed, then took his hand and towed him onto the dancefloor. Mark rolled his eyes. Nicky was good, Mark had to give him that.

He checked his phone. Sent a message to Kian to let him know he was being thought of. Got a reply straight away complaining about the mosquitoes. By the time he looked up from his phone Nicky and the girl were snogging like mad, grinding against each other. Mark rolled his eyes again, looking back down at his phone.

A hand touched his shoulder. He looked up.

“Hey, there.” It was a boy. Dark hair and green eyes, about Mark's height. “Top that up for you?”

“Oh...” Mark glanced down into his drink. It was just a cheap vodka and soda, almost gone. About all he could afford, really. “No, I'm sorry, I'm...” He smiled weakly. “Boyfriend.” The guy apologised quickly and melted into the crowd again. Nicky was really going to town on that girl, his hands all over her arse.

Mark took another sip of his drink and checked his phone again.

 

*

 

This girl was a good sort. Katie. She was cute, lots of dark hair and big blue eyes, the kind of grin that said she was already thinking of fun things to do to you.

He felt good tonight. Fantastic, even. Had ever since Chance had bent himself over the love-seat and Nicky had rolled the condom on, lining himself up and feeling seriously weird about staring straight down the eye of some lad's arsehole. They'd called action, the camera man moving closer.

And then oh. Sinking heat, squeezing tight and Chance had moaned and _spread_ and fuck, Nicky didn't care particularly that it was a boy, not any more, because he was fucking _good_ at this. All those people on the internet had thought so, and that had just been him having a toss. Brian had given him a thumbs up from across the room. Nicky had almost laughed, and then he'd just been groaning and bending down to bite hard kisses to the back of a long neck, twisting his hips and fixing the angle when they'd told him to.

Then they'd said cut, and Chance had laughed, glanced over his shoulder, and said it was nice to meet him.

And Nicky had giggled, and changed positions, and they'd called action again.

He'd come sitting on the sofa with Chance riding him hard, snogging his face off and feeling the rasp of slight stubble on his cheek. Chance had pulled off at the last second, rolled the condom off, and then Nicky had been coming with a cry, spilling over a firm hand and onto a flat stomach, Chance's mouth locked to his.

Now he felt invincible. He'd done it. He'd bloody done it.

He yanked Katie in, heard her laugh.

“You wanna get outta here?” she said in his ear.

He really, really did.

He looked over. Mark was staring at his phone, leaned against the bar and looking bored. Nicky felt bad, suddenly. He'd asked Mark out, had wanted to get him having a good time, maybe lift the awkwardness that had been settling a little at home since Nicky had bought him the laptop. Now they were half an hour in and Nicky was looking at skipping off with some bird.

“Gotta get back to me mate.” He gestured over his shoulder. “Give us your number, though, yeah? Maybe we can hook up?”

“I'm not looking for a date.” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the dance, yeah?” She wandered away, tottering slightly on high heels. Nicky watched her go, then looked back over. Mark was sipping slowly on his drink, staring vaguely at the floor. He'd not let Nicky buy him one, had gotten the cheapest spirit they had, and had been working on it for the better part of forty-five minutes.

“Hey.”

Mark looked up. Nicky smiled.

“Hey.”

“You want to get out of here?”

“What happened to the girl?”

“Who cares?” Nicky nudged Mark's shoulder, got a small smile. “Let's go. You hungry?”

 

*

 

“There!”

“I can see!” Mark laughed, reaching out to whack one of the crocodiles on the nose. They were starting to move faster now, the lights above the machine blinking like crazy.

“You missed one.”

“So bloody help!” He'd dropped the hammer halfway through the first wave, was using both hands now, trying to keep up.

“Can't. Eating.” Nicky tore a piece of candy floss from the stick, then held it out. Mark opened his mouth absently. Pink sugar exploded on his tongue, his hands still moving to keep up while Nicky laughed and the crocodiles shot out of their holes faster than Mark could move.

“ _Game over! Bonus points!”_ the machine announced. Mark bent down to catch the tickets spilling from the slot.

This was much more fun. They'd left the club an hour before, gone for a wander down the street, just mucking around and having a chat, when Nicky had pointed out the arcade and said he hadn't done that in years. Mark had argued that they didn't have the money to spend on playing games, so Nicky had stalked up to the counter, loaded forty euro onto a card, and said it was too late now, so they might as well use it all or waste the money.

“What are you going to get with your winnings?”

“Well, I could get a mechanical pencil, or two bouncy balls,” Mark suggested as he stuffed the new tickets into his pocket.

“Don't go mad.” Nicky took the game card. “Come on, I want a go on the motorbikes. I'll race you.” He sauntered away.

Mark followed.

 

*

 

Nicky gave him a solid drubbing on the motorcycles. The candy floss was almost gone. They'd had far too much sugar, and it was almost midnight, the place packed with teenagers and drunk people. Nicky was glad they'd left the club. Mark looked much happier here, was laughing and talking, and beating Nicky at the basketball games, though Nicky suspected he had a bit of an unfair advantage because of his height.

“You want some more?”

“Oh, go on.” Mark was peering at the screen over the sights of a plastic rifle. He pulled the trigger. A zombie fell. Then another one.

“Open.” Mark did. Nicky pushed a little clump of floss between parted lips, felt hot breath brush his fingers for a moment, the slight damp touch of a bottom lip. He wondered if he should feel weird about hand-feeding Mark, but shit, Mark's hands were full, and once it was gone Nicky wouldn't have to carry it around any more. His hands were getting sticky. “More?"

Mark nodded. Some great lumbering ridiculous monster staggered out from behind the haunted house. Mark started to shoot. Nicky pressed another piece of candy floss to his mouth. Lips touched his fingers again. They were soft, Mark's lips. Had always looked soft, red and full. They clung to his skin a little as he pulled away, and Nicky felt an inexplicable rush of heat, something soft and wet that tendrilled down his arm and into his stomach.

“More?”

“I'm okay.” Nicky wanted to not be disappointed by that. There was a sudden growl, and when Nicky looked up the monster was on top of them, filling the screen while Mark fired like mad, eyes narrowed. The game ended a minute later. Mark put the gun back on the cradle. “What now?”

“That was our last one. Want me to put more money on the card?”

“No, you've spent enough.” A smile spread across Mark's face. “Thanks for tonight. It's been fun, you know? I think I needed this.”

“Then I'm glad we did it.” Nicky touched his hand. Mark did look better. Less like he was in his own head. Nicky hadn't seen him check his phone once. “You want to go get burgers or something? Head back to the flat?"

“Sounds good.” He was still touching Mark's hand. That was weird. Mark didn't pull away, either.

“ _Faggots,”_ Nicky heard. He turned. There were a group of people stood behind them, a couple of guys and a few girls. They were talking amongst themselves, laughing, but Nicky knew what he'd heard. One of the lads laughed, loud and obnoxious. When he looked back Mark was a little pink, was looking awkward.

“Let's go,” he said quietly. Nicky took his hand instead. Mark looked surprised. His fingers went slack in Nicky's grip. Nicky tightened his hold.

“We're not going anywhere.”

“You just said we were going to get burgers.”

“That's not...” Nicky sighed. He looked back over his shoulder. One of the guys was shooting them a look, kept gesturing slightly to one of the girls, who was giggling. Nicky tapped him on the arm.

“Yeah?” He turned around. Big lad, sort of, but drunk. Weaving slightly on his feet. He glared at Nicky.

“Hi.” Nicky grinned. “Sorry. Nicky.” He put out a hand. The guy stared at it, then shook it carefully. Nicky smiled back. “This is Mark.” He gestured over his shoulder. Mark stared. “He's my boyfriend.”

One of the girls started to giggle. Nicky didn't let go of the lad's hand.

“Sorry, it's just... we were checking you out before, right, and I think you're our type. You interested in coming back for a three-way?” The lad's face went bright red, mouth opening in a stammering scowl.

“No.” His voice came out high-pitched. He went redder. “Erm... no. I'm not gay.”

“Oh... really?” Nicky cocked his head. “It's just I heard you say faggot, and that's sort of our word, you know? Taking it back? So if I hear someone say it, I assume they're either really comfortable with their sexuality or they're straight and a complete homophobic twat who needs to get their head out of their arse.” He smiled sunnily. “Which one are you?”

“I...”

“Ah, never mind.” Nicky dropped his hand. “Second thoughts, you're not our type anyway. I don't fuck mingers.” He tugged on Mark's hand and turned away. “Come on, honey, let's go.”

They were halfway out the door before he head the lad's friends start to laugh.

Nicky smirked to himself, and when he looked back over at Mark he was getting a look of surprise and shock, though a laugh was definitely circling the edges.

 


	9. Chapter 9

“Oh god...” Nicky hitched one leg higher, hand pressing down on dark hair. Leo took him in again. “Fuck, yeah,” he growled. “That's it, baby. Just like that...” He saw a cheeky smirk in dark eyes and thrust a little harder, heard a moan. “Take it. You want it?”

“Cut.” They stopped. Leo wiped his mouth as he pulled off. “Ronan, need you to go a little harder, yeah?”

“It's cool. I can take it,” Leo murmured. Nicky nodded, grateful. He knew he'd been holding back, hadn't wanted to hurt Leo accidentally. One of the crew came over to untie Leo, let him shake the blood back into his hands, then knotted the rope again.

It was quite fun, this. Leo bound on his knees, wrists bound behind him. He felt ridiculous, and maybe that was why it didn't feel too awful. Why it hadn't actually, had gotten easier over the last few weeks. It was all just play-acting. Doing and saying things so completely silly he couldn't take it seriously enough to be worried any more.

“Ready, lads?”

“We're good.” He looked down at Leo. “Tell me if I hurt...”

“Don't worry. You go too hard, I'll just bite it off,” Leo joked. Nicky winced. “Seriously, it's cool. I used to do a lot of hardcore stuff on my last gig. This is a picnic.”

That was a little more comforting. They called action.

And Nicky proceeded to face-fuck the hell out of a six-foot-two bear who looked like a lumberjack and could have flattened him in a fight.

Just another day at the office.

He came all over Leo's face, in his hair, over his closed eyelids while the bigger man made tortured, gasping yelps and tried to grind his urgently hard cock into Nicky's leg. Then he begged to be finished. Absolutely begged. So Nicky manhandled Leo over his knee and spanked the life out of him until his arse was so red it shone, flipped him over onto his back, and went down on him while Leo writhed and sobbed and said thank you, master.

He let the cum fill his mouth. The trick Mark had taught him had been coming in handy, actually, letting it spill out the sides. He'd done it more than once the last few weeks, and it was certainly better than trying to swallow. He thought he might even be getting used to the taste.

When he was done, he crawled back up, kissed Leo deep, cum spilling between their mouths, sticky. Leo moaned, tilted his head, and panted into Nicky's neck while Nicky ran a hand down his arse and told him he was going to fuck Leo raw.

They broke for lunch. Nicky had a water and a salad with Leo a couple of the crew, Leo sitting rather naked on a chair and sipping from a cup of herbal tea. Half an hour later Nicky got it back up and fucked Leo over a table, the bigger man's wrists strapped to the corners and his hips moving back hard like he was begging for it.

Nicky had a shower and caught the bus to the gym.

 

*

 

Nicky was out.

Which wasn't anything new. Over the last month of so Mark had gotten used to Nicky being out. It was good, he supposed. Nicky was employed, was starting to make some money, and that was a good thing.

Exams were almost over. He thought he'd done okay, so far. He'd gotten an extension on some of his assignments, had been able to make up for the ones he couldn't catch up on with other credit work. His professor had been surprisingly sympathetic, though Mark was trying his best not to push his sympathies too far.

The house was quiet. He thought about making something to eat. They had groceries, at the moment. Actual groceries. Mark felt bad about using them, though. They certainly hadn't come out of his pocket. Not that Nicky was eating much of them anyway. He was on some mad diet at the moment, was just about living on lettuce and crumbs. Always at the gym, as well. If he wasn't coming home from his new job, he was coming home three hours later, sweaty and exhausted, though he didn't look unhappy. He looked quite chuffed, actually, most of the time, and for that Mark was glad.

He just... he sort of missed Nicky.

He looked down at his textbook again. Didn't feel like doing this at all. He knew all the material, a thousand times over. He thought about calling Kian, but Kian had an exam this evening and Mark didn't want to interrupt his studying, though he knew Kian would stop and talk to him if he called.

He wanted to cry, a bit. Wanted a hug, maybe. He thought about calling his mam, but didn't want to worry her if he started to break down on the phone. And he knew he would. Because she'd be very caring and start to fuss, and ask if there was anything she could do, and tell him he could always come home.

He wanted to go home.

His phone beeped. Nicky.

_Be late tonight. Don't worry about dinner, I'll sort myself out. Should be done by eight._

Mark looked at the clock. It was only five in the afternoon.

He looked back down at the textbook, resting his chin in his hands.

 

*

 

Nicky stared at himself in the mirror.

He was knackered. Soaked in sweat.

Not bloody good enough. He'd seen the video from the shoot a few days ago. It was going to be up in a couple of days, and he had to admit that he was a bit embarrassed. Not by the sex, no. He was fine with that. Some cute little twink had been having a wank while his uni room-mate was out and Ronan had been the hall warden popping his head round the door and checking to see if he needed a hand, so to speak.

He'd felt okay on the day, but when he looked back he looked soft. Too chubby in the face and he'd been able to see the slight love-handles when the lad had sat on his cock, backed right up while Ronan was sat on the bed, his arms around the lad's waist and hanging on while he'd been ridden fast and hard.

He'd been watching the website. He'd gotten himself a better phone, though he hadn't told Mark that. It was purely business. Kept in his bag on silent so he could have a separate line for things to do with his job. It was good to keep his job separate, he was finding. Though it was getting harder to hide it, when Mark kept asking what magazine it was, wanting to be supportive and buy a copy if that was what Nicky was involved in.

Nicky didn't know what he was doing wrong. He'd cut his meals, was sticking to salads and fruit, and he still looked crap. He supposed he could see a little more definition on his arms, but it didn't stop the squidge on his stomach that didn't want to shift, no matter how many crunches he did.

He'd been working out two hours. He was hungry. He didn't want to be hungry.

He sent a quick text to Mark, to let him know he'd be home late. Told him not to bother with dinner. Mark had been making meals for him, trying to be helpful, obviously, but it was all these cheesy, pasta things that were no good for his waist-line. He couldn't say no, he didn't want to upset his friend, but he'd stuck to smaller portions where he could, said he was full, and maybe once or twice he'd gone to throw up once the plates had been cleared away and Mark was distracted talking to Kian on the phone.

It wasn't so bad. He'd only done it a couple of times, just to be on the safe side, certainly wasn't going to be making a habit of it. Couple of fingers down his throat, and the evidence was flushed away. It was an odd paradox, though. He'd spent weeks trying to dial back his gag reflex, so now it was harder to make himself throw up, like he was just getting used to having things back there.

It was funny, he supposed.

Nicky grabbed a bottle of water, then went to find an unoccupied treadmill.

 

*

 

“How'd it go?”

“Brutal.” Mark yawned. Kian made a soft, sympathetic noise on the other end. “Going to go home and sleep for two days.” The bus was almost empty. He leaned his cheek the window, yawning. “At least it's the last one.”

“You think you did alright?”

“Don't know. It felt okay.” It had. He was on holidays now, more or less. Three months off, then back for the last term. He was doing his last Social Work placement starting in September. “How was yours?”

“Fine, I think. Shane's last one's on now, so we're going to order a Chinese tonight, have a few mates around and celebrate, sort of thing. Looking forward to the time off. Might come visit you next week if you like?”

“Definitely,” Mark agreed. “I should be able to pick up more shifts at work, too, so I can start saving up.” His mam kept asking if he wanted to come home for the three months. Kian had asked too, though Mark had shut him down pretty quickly. It was tempting, but he needed the money and knew he'd have to quit his job if he went away for that long, really didn't want to have to find another one coming up to his last term.

Anyway, he couldn't leave Nicky here on his own.

“We're going to do camping in three weeks, if you're interested?”

He was. He asked Kian to text him the dates, they made a little bit of small talk, and then Mark hung up.

He looked out the bus window at the setting sun. Shivered a little. It was cold, for a summer evening. He was looking forward to sitting on the sofa in his pyjamas and watching some crap movie with Nicky, assuming his flat-mate was actually in for once.

 

*

 

“Sure you don't want any more?”

“I'm fine.” Nicky crossed his legs on the sofa. Mark had made dinner again. Really fantastic burritos with loads of fillings. He was spooning more beans and mince out of the pan now, arranging it on the bread.

“You didn't have much.”

“I ate at work.” Mark plonked down beside him. Nicky smiled. “How was your exam?”

“It's over.” Nicky nodded sympathetically. “Kian's coming to visit next week, then I'm going back to Sligo at the end of the month. Going to go camping with Kian and Shane. Do you want to come?”

“I can't.” He wanted to. It had been years since he'd been camping. His dad had taken him all the time when he'd been little, usually just Camac Valley for a couple of nights, but it had been loads of fun. Toasting marshmallows and going on hikes with his family. “Sorry. I only just got this job and I don't want to ask for time off...”

“That's fine.” Mark shrugged. “It was only if you were interested.”

“Yeah.” Nicky watched him take a huge bite. “Maybe next time, okay? You and me. You can even ask Kian if you want.”

“Can I? Oh, thank you so much!”

“Yeah, fuck off.” Nicky shoved him, got a shove back from the hand not working half a burrito into Mark's mouth. “Be dangerous, anyway. Poor little me and you three. I'd not leave with my virtue intact. Aren't your people supposed to be predatory or something?” He saw Mark start to laugh, eyes dancing over full cheeks. “And there is that thing about being camper than a row of tents.” He got another shove.

“Dickhead,” Mark said, once he'd swallowed. Nicky smirked. An arm slung around his shoulders, and Nicky leaned in, rested his head on Mark's shoulder for a moment. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Nicky glanced at him. Mark was looking earnest. “All systems go.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Mark squeezed him gently. “You can talk to me, you know? If anything's up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just...” Mark shrugged. “Dunno. Nothing in particular, I guess, just you're always at work and I'm always at school and I don't want you to think I don't care because we don't see each other as much.” Nicky felt a lump fill his throat all of a sudden. When he looked at Mark again the boy's face was so sincere it broke Nicky's heart. He knew he'd started doing this for Mark, but now he could remember why. Because this kid was lovely and Nicky didn't want to be without him.

“I know.” Nicky kissed his cheek. A look of confused surprise crossed Mark's face, but he smiled anyway and kissed Nicky's cheek in return. Nicky snuggled into his shoulder a little. “Hey, ditto.” Mark nodded. “I'd do anything for you, you know?” He saw Mark's cheeks go a little pink. “Thanks.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Mark didn't sound like he knew what Nicky was thanking him for. It didn't matter. “Well... mutual. Obviously. Anything you need.”

“I'm fine,” Nicky promised.

Mark let go. Nicky watched him go to clear his plate, still able to feel warmth settled up his side.

 

*

 

“Missed this,” Kian murmured. Mark nodded. They were laying on the sofa, Kian draped over his chest, legs all tangled together. Kian had only arrived two hours before, and they basically hadn't stopped for air since getting back from the train station. Now Mark was dozing in the afternoon sun while Kian pressed the occasional kiss through his t-shirt. He smiled as he felt fingers stroke his arm.

“Is it really rude if I fall asleep?”

“It's fine.” He felt Kian stretch slightly. “My arse hurts.”

“Should I be sorry?”

“Very much no.” He heard a soft laugh. Mark smacked it lightly, got a growl in reply, then wrapped his arms around a strong back, pulling Kian in tighter. “A sleep sounds like a good idea, actually.” He yawned. “Mm.”

“Mm,” Mark agreed. “You want to move this to the bed?”

“When's Nicky due back?”

“Dunno. Later.”

“I'm okay here, then.” Mark felt a soft kiss press to his chin. “How's his new job going, by the way? Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” He felt another kiss. Dug his fingers gently into Kian's sides in response. “He's making more money than me at the moment. We're actually ahead on bills and groceries and stuff.”

“That's good.”

“It is.” It was. Except Nicky had declined Mark's half of the power bill, had told him to keep the money, and Mark didn't know how he felt about that. He hadn't wanted to accept charity from Kian, he certainly didn't want to do it with his own flatmate. He'd already made up his mind to pay for the water before Nicky could, just to even things out.

“Is that a new laptop?” He opened his eyes. Kian's were turned towards the coffee table.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“How'd you afford that?”

“Erm...” He thought about telling the truth, but he didn't need an argument. And it would be an argument. He hadn't even let Kian buy him a toaster, for god's sake. “Pulled some extra shifts, and there was a guy at uni selling one second hand.”

“Lucky.”

“Yeah.” He breathed a sigh of relief. And now he was lying to Kian. Great. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Kian looked up. “Hey... just so you know, I'm proud of you.”

“Oh.” He didn't know what to say to that. “What for?"

“Just... I know I coddle and stuff, but like... you're doing really well down here, you know? Like, I was worried about you and I don't mean to nag, but...” He shrugged. “I almost feel like you don't need me sometimes, and I know you don't, like, _need_ me...” He sighed. “I don't fucking know what I'm trying to say.”

“Of course I need you.” Mark kissed his forehead. “But I need _you_ , not like... a loan, or a favour or anything.”

“I know. I just don't see you enough and I feel like...” Kian bit his lip. “I'm sorry. I think the whole long-distance thing's getting to me lately. I don't mean to act like you can't take care of yourself.”

“I miss you too.” Kian gave him a small smile. Mark brushed hair out of his eyes. “School's almost over. After that... we can start figuring out what to do next.”

“What do you want to do next?”

“I honestly don't know,” Mark admitted. “You?”

“I don't know,” Kian sighed. Mark felt his stomach knot.

He pulled Kian in tighter, kissing his hair.

 

*

 

The offices were a bit quieter today. Nicky checked in with the receptionist. Nice lass, Emma. He was getting to know a lot of the people that worked there now. One of the crew was a massive Leeds fan, and they'd ended up talking so much the day before that Nicky had almost missed his cue, gabbing away in the corner.

Emma was pretty cool, though. Attractive girl, probably a year or two older than him, with that kind of bookish, secretary look, and an admirable ability to look none of this fazed her. Which he didn't think it did. She just smiled and nodded, and said he was down in Room Eight today, and how had his weekend been? He said fine, flirted a little bit. He was thinking of asking her out, maybe. She seemed a good laugh.

Though he supposed he couldn't really tell people where he'd met her.

He waved her goodbye, dropped her a wink, and got a cheeky smile back. Then he was headed down the hallway.

It was an easy one, just a solo shoot. Wanking was something Nicky could do, so he did it. Climbed into a shower to start things off, running soapy water all over himself, tipping his head back and making soft, relaxed moans, then towelling off, running the towel over his bits and grinding into it a little bit. Then onto the bed to finish off, making sure the label on the lube was visible so someone could blog about the brand for him later.

He rolled over onto his stomach, humping into a pillow and trying not to giggle or blush when they basically shoved a camera down his arsehole. The waxing had turned into a regular thing. Weirdly normal, just like the STD checks he had to do every two weeks. Then he rolled back over and came with one hand caressing his balls, the other pumping the shaft hard, head rolling against the pillows.

It was a straightforward enough morning. They let him jump into the shower again once he was done to wash off, and by the time he was getting dressed again everyone had more or less packed up and left.

He headed back to check out. Emma told him Louis wanted to see him, so he headed back down towards the office, running a hand through his damp hair.

Louis was on the phone. Nicky got a wink and a smile, sank into a chair. Louis finished a few minutes later.

“Ronan.”

“Hiya, Louis.” He smiled. “What's the craic?”

“Just checking in, lad.” Louis gave him a smile. “Seen the figures lately?”

“Had a glance this morning.” He had five videos up now. The solo shoot, the one with Chance, and a few more. The one he'd done with Leo hadn't surfaced yet, but it was supposed to be up in the next week or so, some joint release between he and Leo's blogs, like an event thing. They were getting views like crazy. His solo video was already pushing eight thousand. And the comments were mad.

He'd been trying not to read them. It was thing about not really wanting to know what other people thought, in case it wasn't nice, but most of it _was_ nice. One or two lads in particular kept commenting on all his blog posts, asking if he was going to be doing specific things. It was a bit creepy, he supposed, but very flattering. One of them was obsessed with his arse. Wanted to know if he'd be getting fingered on camera, or at least eaten out. Nicky had to admit it was very tempting.

“I've been getting a lot of interest in you.”

“Yeah?” He felt himself blush. “What sort of interest?”

“Sponsors, wanting to know if you'd be interested in using their products. Got a couple of toys in the post if you want some free samples.” He pulled out a small bag. Nicky took it, glancing inside, and laughed. Free sex toys. Okay. Cool. He didn't know if he'd be using any of them, but okay. “I'm organising an event next Friday night, sort of an unveiling for the five of you. Inviting sponsors and that, industry people.” He handed Nicky an envelope. “Details are there.”

“Oh... right.” He flicked it open. There was a very nice invitation inside, on what looked like expensive paper. “Do I have to do anything?”

“Just show up, shake hands, and don't get too drunk on the champagne,” Louis chuckled. Nicky smirked. “You'll have to do a couple of photo ops.”

“I can do that.” He put the invitation in with the sex toys.

“Do you have a suit?” Nicky shook his head. He'd have to buy one. Though with the money from today he was sure he could afford something. He was trying to figure out the right time to get them a new TV. He certainly had the money, but after the whole thing with Mark's laptop he didn't want to look too suspicious. “Talk to Emma on the way out. We'll get you the address of my tailor. Charge it to the work account.” Nicky nodded.

“Thanks, Louis.”

“Another thing.” Louis leaned forward a little. “And don't let this go to your head, but you're getting the most positive responses so far. You won't see it on the site, but we can see all the viewing stats, and honestly you're the most popular out of the lot of them. Blaze is doing well, and Leo has his niche, but you're ticking boxes in all the key demographics right now.” Nicky blinked, surprised. He thought he'd been doing okay, but he hadn't expected... “Keep it up, alright?”

“I... I will.”

“Brilliant.” He glanced at his watch. “I've got to get going. Blaze has a three-way starting in twenty minutes and I said I'd poke my head in. You interested in doing one? I have a possible gang-bang lined up for next weekend.”

“I...” He didn't know. That sounded outside his comfort zone. But shit, so did everything. “I'd have to think about it.”

“I'll send you the brief. See what you think.” Louis nodded. “You right to show yourself out?”

He was. Louis buzzed off and Nicky headed back to reception, got the name of the tailor from Emma. Within ten minutes he was on a bus into the city, a bag of sex toys improbably squashed in his backpack.

 

*

 

Nicky seemed in a good mood when he got home. He and Kian hardly even argued. Nicky just dropped his bag in his bedroom, came back, sank into the armchair and asked Kian how he was, then Kian asked back, and they almost ended up having something that could have been called a polite conversation. Mark made dinner, and they ate clustered around the coffee table, Mark's laptop playing a DVD.

Nicky went to bed early, saying he had work tomorrow. Mark put on another movie and he and Kian sat on the sofa, not really watching it.

“So, when did Nicky get fit?”

Mark was startled into a laugh. Kian was sat at the other end of the sofa, their legs all tangled up in the middle under a blanket.

“Excuse me?”

“Nicky. Fit. Like, I know he usually looks fine, but I didn't expect that.”

“Does he?” Mark supposed he hadn't really noticed. Nicky always looked nice. Yeah, he had been working out a lot more the last couple of months, watching his eating, but... “I suppose. Yeah. He's been going to the gym and stuff.”

“I can tell.”

“Should I be jealous?” Mark teased.

“Course not, it's bloody Nicky.” Kian rolled his eyes. “Just because he's gone and gotten himself abs, it doesn't mean I'm going to like him.”

“True.” Mark rolled his eyes. “I'm never going to convince you to be friends with him, am I?”

“Probably not,” Kian admitted. “He's fine. I don't know.” He glanced towards the bedroom. “Like, I'm sure he's an okay person, he just gives me the shits for some reason. Like, it pissed me off when he got sacked, because he was mooching off you, and you just... let him.”

“You didn't like him before that, though,” Mark pointed out. “And he wasn't mooching. He's my friend and we went through a bad patch. If anything, I'm the one mooching now. He wasn't doing it on purpose.”

“I know, I just...” Kian sighed. “I don't know, babe. I don't want to argue. Especially not about him.” Mark shrugged. He supposed there wasn't much point, anyway. It wasn't like he could force them to be friends. “Come over here, yeah?” Mark began to crawl over. He settled into strong arms, felt a hand begin to stroke his hair, his head laid in Kian's chest. A kiss brushed his forehead. “Maybe I'm just jealous,” Kian murmured. “Because he gets to see you all the time and I don't.”

“You're jealous of Nicky?”

“I don't know.” He got another kiss. “No. Not really. Just...” Kian sighed. “Hey, let's go do something tomorrow, alright? Something fun. Show me around Dublin or something, yeah?”

Mark didn't reply that he was always offering to do that, and Kian had never been interested before. He supposed Kian was trying. He didn't know why that made him feel uneasy.

There was a sudden clatter from the other room, a yelp. Mark looked up.

“You alright, Nicky?”

“Fine!” Nicky's voice was muffled through the bedroom door. “Stubbed my toe!”

Kian chuckled. Mark giggled too.

“Be careful!”

“Yeah, thanks babe!” Nicky called back. Mark snorted.

“Love you too!”

When he looked back up Kian was giving him a smile, something soft and sad that Mark didn't quite know what to do with.

 

*

 

Nicky sat on his bed, looking at the contents of the bag he'd just tipped out.

It was all a bit daunting. Half of it looked like it was supposed to go up his arse, so he put that to a side pretty much straight away. He could hear Mark and Kian talking. Nothing specific, just low murmurs and occasional laughter. His feelings on Kian aside, it was nice to hear Mark being happy. There'd been a little glow behind his eyes all evening, shining out every time he looked at Kian, and it was very sweet. He wanted that for Mark.

He picked up a packet of inserts for his fleshlight. That was a bit luxurious, so they went in the drawer next to his bed, squashed in beside his toy. There was one with little studs that looked like a winner, and he made notes to try that one out later when the flat was empty and he had time. That left him with a bottle of lube and a cock ring.

He unwrapped the cock ring. That looked quite interesting, actually, was two rings together, one to go around his boys, the other one to fit round the shaft. The lube smelled of passionfruit. He put that aside, didn't want the whole place smelling of a tropical cocktail bar and Mark and Kian wondering why. He looked at the cock ring, though. He'd never tried one before. It'd definitely be one to try out later, when he couldn't hear Mark's voice through the door. He gave it a tug. It was stretchy, like two really strong rubber bands. He tugged harder, trying to see how far it would go.

His finger slipped. The ring shot into his hand, snapping a sting against his palm. The other hand snapped back. He felt his elbow collide with the bag.

The contents clattered to the floor.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“You alright, Nicky?”

“Fine!” Shit, shit, shit. “Stubbed my toe!” That didn't make any fucking sense. He started scooping everything back into the bag, shoved it under the bed. He hoped Mark wouldn't come in, listened for tell-tale footsteps, but instead he heard Kian laugh.

“Be careful!”

“Yeah, thanks babe!” Nicky called back.

“Love you too!”

Nicky shook his head. Fucking Mark. A few minutes later he was satisfied that nobody was coming to check on him. He reached for his phone and began to go through his comments again, wondering whether he should talk to Louis about any of them. Give his fans what they wanted, so to speak.

He was still getting lots of hits. He'd watched his own video on mute that afternoon in the internet café, the new one with Chance. It looked quite good, he supposed. Neil definitely knew what he was doing. He couldn't stop looking at himself, though. He looked soft, inadequate. Chance was gorgeous, all fluid lines and definition, his hips cut in a V, arse perfect and round while Ronan ploughed into him. He'd watched a strong back arch underneath him, watched the slight creases appear in his own back when he moved.

An hour later Mark and Kian went to bed. He heard the light click off, a soft laugh, and Mark's door shut.

Nicky was still doing squats, sweat dripping down his temples.

 


	10. Chapter 10

When he'd been here the first time, for that poolside photoshoot, Nicky hadn't quite realised just how _big_ Louis' place was. He'd seen the front hall, the pool area, but now he was inside a large ballroom, like something out of The Sound Of Music. He kept expecting seven kids and a governess to sing a song on the staircase.

It was packed. Nicky had picked up a suit from the tailor that afternoon. He didn't know how much it had cost, but the man who had measured him said Louis had already called in advance to sort the price, and now he was dressed in black, the fit perfect, the silk shirt sat like water against his skin. He'd passed Aaron on the way in, gotten a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and now he was wandering around the room, a glass of champagne in his hand.

A tall woman in a plunging green dress stopped him, told him she liked his work, and handed him a business card. He was getting a small collection of them now, tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. He thanked her. She ran an escort company, apparently, wanted to know if he was interested in signing up. He said not at the moment, but he'd keep it in mind. She seemed very nice.

“Ronan.” A hand touched his shoulder. He turned around to see Blaze smiling at him. “You look lost.”

“I'm fine.” He took a sip of his champagne. “Don't know anyone here.”

“Oh, yeah. Think a lot of them are posers.” Blaze rolled his eyes. “You know. Hangers on, low level amateur fellas and that. But, you know, publicity is publicity.” He grimaced. “The industry's not like it was ten years ago. Now it's all home-made fetish stuff. The big names are disappearing with the video cassette. I think we're a dying breed.”

“Ten years ago?” Nicky was surprised. Blaze looked barely twenty. “How old are you?”

“Wouldn't you like to know.” Blaze winked. “My page says I'm twenty-one.”

“You're not?”

“Do you really go to church every Sunday?” Blaze laughed. “I'm twenty-six. Got in when I was sixteen, lied about my age. Simon fired me when he found out, but I had a bit of a following, so when I turned eighteen Louis rehired me. Simon was _not_ happy. But then he wasn't happy about a lot of things Louis was doing, so I doubt I was the reason they fell out. He's always taken care of me.”

“You're older than me.”

“Don't say that too loudly.” Blaze glared playfully. “How's the champagne?”

“Fine. You're not having any?”

“Oh. No. Too much sugar. I'm on detox at the moment.” Nicky was surprised. There was nothing of Blaze. He certainly didn't need to diet. “Fasting for three days, then I've got a bottom scene on Monday. I'll have something after that.” He smiled. “I do recognise a lot of people here, actually. That's Scott over there.” He pointed. Nicky turned to look. “He runs a production company in London. I did a few freelance gigs for him last year.”

“He gave me his card.”

“Keep it. It's always good to have contacts, even if you're locked in with Louis for now.” He pointed over at a shorter, bald man stood near the bar. “That's Ernest. He runs a whole chain of saunas and massage parlours. You'll probably see him again. He pays Louis to do scenes in his rooms sometimes, bit of advertising for the establishment. I'm doing one next week for him.” He pointed again. “And that's Lynn. She used to do straight porn, got her PhD, and now she runs a clinic for STD and sexual counselling. Really cool chick.”

“You know everyone here?”

“Most of them.” Blaze smiled. “Everyone knows someone, in the end.”

“Huh.” Nicky looked around. “Well... thanks, I guess.”

“It's cool.” A hand clapped onto his shoulder. “I'm going to the bathroom, want to come?” He tapped his nose gently. Nicky was confused. Blaze rolled his eyes. “Come on, I'll share.”

“Oh.” Nicky realised suddenly. Blaze was looking expectant. “Oh, no. I don't do... that.”

“Not even a little?” Nicky shook his head. “What about poppers, at least?”

“Poppers?”

“Amyl. So you can bottom.” Nicky shook his head. “Wow, you really are new,” Blaze chuckled. “Well, okay. But if you change your mind, let me know. I'll hook you up.”

“I'm okay.”

“Cool. See you round, Ronan.” Blaze wandered off.

Nicky looked down at his glass of champagne.

He tipped the rest of it into a potplant, left it on a table in the corner, then went to say hi to people.

 

*

 

“Oh...” Kian hissed. “Oh fuck.” His hands clenched at Mark's shoulders. Mark groaned. Yanked Kian into another kiss. His boyfriend was moving hard, grinding against him, and Mark was just about done.

It was Kian's last night. Nicky had gone out. Said something about popping round to visit his parents, and Mark was really really grateful because as far as saying goodbye to Kian went this was definitely on the list.

“Need you,” Mark gasped. Kian was panting in his ear. “I..” Kian moved a little harder, straddling Mark on his knees, Mark's back pressed to the head of the bed, the wood digging uncomfortably into his spine where the pillow had slipped down. He caught Kian's mouth again. And fuck. Fuck, that was it. Pressure, and heat, and his cock sliding up Kian's crack, catching on puckered muscle with every thrust and he just...

“Fuck me,” Kian urged. “Fuck me. Want to feel it all day tomorrow.”

Mark grabbed his arse, heard Kian moan, went a little harder. Kian was whimpering, making broken sobs like he was almost there as well.

Mark fumbled for the drawer. Lube. Needed lube. Found it. Condoms. He pulled out the box.

“Shit.”

“What?” Kian looked down. At an empty box, a wrapper sitting forlornly in the bottom. “Oh, fuck, really?”

“I thought...” Mark tipped it upside down. The wrapper fluttered out. “Fuck. We must have used them all.”

“Damn right we did,” Kian teased. Mark laughed. Over the last eight days they'd become very re-acquainted with each other. Mark had been missing Nicky when he was out, but now he was grateful for the solitude. Not so much for when Nicky would walk back in the door, sniff the air, and give him an accusing look, but definitely for the solitude.

“Do you have any?”

“Why would I? The only time I have sex is when I'm here.” Kian nudged him lightly. “It's fine. We can still get off.”

“Yeah, but...” It was their last night. It went unsaid. Mark wanted to at least make it memorable.

“Maybe Nicky has some?”

“True.” He knew he should be pushing Kian off, going to look. He didn't know how to, not when he was covered in gorgeous, sweaty boy, a hard cock poking insistently into his stomach. Kian climbed off. Mark sighed and kissed him gently. Got a cheeky grin. “I'll go look?”

“You go look,” Kian agreed. Mark stood. When he turned back, Kian was laid on the bed, stroking himself slowly. And shit, how was he supposed to leave Kian now, when he was looking like that? “Off you go. I'll keep this warm.”

“Tease.” He stomped from the room to the sound of Kian's laughter.

He pushed open Nicky's door carefully and switched on the light. The bedroom doors didn't lock. It was surprisingly tidy in here, for once, and Mark looked around, wondering where Nicky would keep them if he had them.

He went to the drawers beside the bed first, lifted a couple of things on top, but there was no joy there, so he opened the top drawer.

Socks, boxers, an ancient roll of Mentos.

Mark closed it. Opened the next one.

Huh.

He pulled it out. A bloody fleshlight.

Well, he supposed it made sense. That was Nicky's business. Mark had his own stuff, after all. Still, this was quite an upmarket item for someone who he'd never thought of as being all that upmarket. Lube, he'd expected, but...

There were sleeves for it. Mark smirked. Still in the packet, so Nicky must have bought them recently. A bottle of lube. And underneath...

Oh, shit, that was a cock ring.

He laughed to himself, covered his mouth to muffle it. He did _not_ need Kian coming in to see this, knew he'd make a big thing of it, probably say something to Nicky. He wouldn't be able to help himself. Mark didn't know how to say anything to Nicky, how to look him in the eye now he'd seen this. He put it back, picked up the fleshlight again. He'd been considering getting one himself, but really hadn't had the money to go splashing out on luxury wanking when his own hand was doing just fine. He tilted it, looking, and realised, suddenly, that the opening on top wasn't a mouth or vagina.

Well, okay, so Nicky liked to pretend he was going in the back door.

Now Mark _really_ knew too much about Nicky.

“Babe, what are you doing?”

“Just... looking still!” Mark called back. “Won't be long!” He peered deeper into the drawer, saw a box at the back. Condoms. Brilliant. Put the fleshlight back and groped them out. And... bloody hell, large size. Mark didn't think he was inadequate, but he didn't think he quite needed that much room to move.

He made a mental note to try to peek next time Nicky had a shower. Then he kicked himself for acting like a pervert.

“Babe!”

He jumped, startled, and as he did the condoms fell from his hand, bounced under the bed. He swore. Bent down to pick them up, and...

He saw the corner of the box. Blinked. Was sure he couldn't have seen that. Before he knew it he was tugging the bag a little closer. His eyes widened as he peered inside.

Oh. Shit.

That was... quite a lot of sex toys. He pulled out the box he'd seen. And yeah, that was definitely a butt plug.

Okay.

Right.

Anal beads. A vibrating wand. Another one that looked like a buttplug, but... oh, that was inflatable. Mark giggled to himself, covering his mouth. Okay. Right. Well... that was unexpected. But... well, maybe Nicky was dating a new girl, or something, one who was into all that and he wanted to impress her. Most of these boxes were still sealed, and if the opening on the fleshlight was anything to go by, maybe Nicky was sort of into it too. It was really none of Mark's business.

He pulled out the last box.

Prostate massager. Very, very definitely a prostate massager. It said right there on the box.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't for a girl.

“Marky, what are you doing?”

“I'm coming, Kian!” He began to shove everything back into the bag, head reeling. Nicky liked to stick things up his arse. Which was too much of a thought for Mark to deal with right now, especially when he was knelt naked and hard on Nicky's bedroom floor and he was about to go have sex with his boyfriend, which really didn't help, because now all he could think of was Nicky, knelt up and working a bloody inflatable buttplug into his arse, and probably enjoying the shit out of it, too.

He shoved the bag under the bed, grabbed the condoms, and headed back to Kian.

 

*

 

Nicky was walking past when Blaze came back out of the bathroom, giggling slightly and wiping his nose. Leo was two steps behind him. Nicky watched them nudge each other, laugh, then wander off in two different directions, both of them looking cheerful.

He wanted to ask Louis. See if maybe they should be doing that on the job, but he didn't want to get them in trouble if that was the case, and neither of them had seemed remotely worried by it. It was just this business, maybe. He knew there were plenty of drugs around in straight porn, so he supposed gay porn shouldn't be any different.

He glanced at his watch. Almost ten. He'd have to be out the back soon, meeting up with the others for the big unveiling, or whatever it was. There was a video or something, and Louis had just said all they had to do was stand on the stage and look fuckable. Nicky supposed that was something he could do.

Someone offered him a hors d'oeuvre from a tray. He declined. He was a little hungry, he supposed, but he could eat at home. He didn't really want to go spilling anything on this suit, anyway, not on the first day and when he was about to stand up in front of people.

“You really should try one.” A man stopped in front of him, one of the nibbles Nicky had just declined held delicately between two fingers. “They're very good.”

“Oh, I'm full.” Nicky smiled back. “I'll keep it in mind, though.”

“Watching your figure?” Eyes drifted up and down. He got a friendly smile, but something about that gaze still made Nicky shift uncomfortably. “You're fine, darling, nothing to worry about.” The hors d'oeuvre disappeared in one bite. “I've seen your videos,” he said, once he'd swallowed.

“Oh.” Nicky didn't know what to say. “Well, thanks for watching.”

“I like your work.” The man nodded. He was well-dressed, neat. Dark hair raked impeccably back. “My employer's been keeping an eye on you, Ronan.” A card appeared in the man's hand suddenly, though Nicky hadn't seen where it had come from. “If you ever feel like leaving Louis, I promise we can make it worth your while.”

“Is that so?” He took the card. _Simon Cowell_ was printed on it in tiny font. There was nothing else. No phone number, nothing. “Well, I'm not really looking at leaving him right now.”

“Aren't you? Shame.” He got a sympathetic smile. “You known Louis long?”

“Couple of months.”

“I've known him longer.” A hand touched his shoulder. “Can I give you some advice?” Nicky nodded. “I'd be watching your bank account. I'm not saying anything, but there's a reason he can afford all this. Despite... everything.”

“Everything?”

“Do you know why Louis left Simon?”

“They had a falling out.”

“Did they?” The man chuckled gently. “I suppose that's a way to put it. I'd be quite upset too, if someone was embezzling money from my company, especially someone I treated as a friend. If I was letting my boys bareback. And if one of my lads got raped on set... yes, I think I'd have a falling out too.”

“Raped?”

“Well, you know how things are.” The man shrugged. “It's a hardcore scene, someone says stop, and maybe things get a big confused. But when your bottom safewords during a gang-bang and you tell everyone to keep going, that it's all part of the scene... I'd call that a bit unscrupulous, wouldn't you?”

“I...” Nicky shook his head. “He's been really good to me.”

“I'm sure he has. Maybe this is a fresh start, you know? He can certainly afford one.” The man glanced around. “Well, if you want your own fresh start, you know who to call. You're a little fish right now, don't think Louis won't throw you over for someone younger and prettier.”

“And Simon won't?”

“Simon takes care of his own.” A hand reached out, snagged another hors d'oeuvre from a tray. “But you have work to do.” It was almost ten. Nicky needed to be headed for the stage. He could see Jax moving across the floor now, sidling through people. “It was nice to meet you, finally. In person.” A hand stretched out. Nicky shook it, not sure what to say. “I'll look forward to seeing more of you.”

He disappeared into the crowd.

Nicky headed for the stage, his heart a knot in his chest.

 

*

 

“Unh...” Mark watched Kian's face screw up, eyelids flutter as he sank down. A hand grasped at the back of his neck. He shivered. Kian's other hand landed on his shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle.

“Okay?”

“God, yes,” Kian breathed. He arched, suddenly, a jerk, and yelped in delight. Mark nuzzled into his throat and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist, trying to feel all of him at once. Fingers carded up through his hair. “There,” Kian murmured. “So good.”

“Perfect,” Mark agreed. Heard a soft laugh. “Love you. So much.”

“Yes.” Kian shifted down a little. And that was it. Bottomed out. Kian's thighs pressed tight against his. Mark dropped a hand, stroked it soothingly over one perfect arse cheek. The condom was a little loose, maybe, but it was fine. Everything was fine. A kiss sucked up his jaw.

They began to move. Or Kian did. Mark just held tight, wrapped around him and touching everything at once, feeling hips roll, the delicious, perfect squeeze of Kian taking him in, hot and tight. The hot rasp of harsh breaths against his ear as Kian got closer. Mark held him. Kissed him. Told him a thousand times over how he felt. How Kian felt around him. Tight and hot and perfect and Mark's.

“Love you,” he whispered. “Love you.”

“Never anyone else,” Kian gasped. “Never. Not for a second.”

“I know.” Mark pulled him in tighter, felt it start. “Mine.”

“Mine.” He felt Kian jerk. “Marky...” He cried out softly. “Yes...”

“Kian...”

He let go with a sob, felt Kian come too, their mouths locked together and hands holding him in so tight Mark could barely catch a breath.

 

*

 

“Oh, god, yes...”

Nicky felt himself go red, looking down at the audience watching the screen behind him. It was a sizzle reel thing, showing the best bits of their featured work. At present he was watching a whole room of people stare at him coming all over his chest, hips grinding into the sheets and one hand caressing his balls. A few gazes flicked to him. He went redder, glancing at the monitor behind the lectern again.

“Nice one,” Aaron murmured next to him. Nicky tried not to giggle. “You give good face.”

“Thanks,” he whispered back. Now Aaron was on screen, tonguing his way into the arse of some pretty blonde boy who had an expression like torture. There was a smirk on Aaron's face though, his hand between slender thighs and stroking hard, tongue lapping and teasing, the other hand on his own cock. “Oh, good work there. Multitasking.”

“Thanks,” Aaron replied. They both glanced at the screen to watch Blaze take two at once, sucking in delight as he was pounded from behind. “Blazey, you got spit-roasted? When did that happen?”

“Last week,” Blaze whispered. “It's supposed to be up soon.”

“Is that Angus?”

“Yeah, and Terry.”

“Haven't seen Angus in ages. How's he?”

“Fine. He's doing this triathlon thing next month. Training like mad. Wants to go out on the sauce when it's over, though. He asked after you.”

“Oh, brilliant. Let me know. We'll get hammered.”

“Definitely.” Blaze fell silent. Another Ronan one came back up. Him on his knees and giving head to a writhing Leo, Leo's hands still bound under him, hips moving hard while Nicky held him down with one arm and sucked slowly, teasing. He was getting better at it, at really playing it for the camera. There was a smack and a grunt as he slapped Leo on the belly, glaring up at him over a mouthful of cock.

When he glanced up the line, Leo was laughing from the other end, winking at him.

Nicky giggled and looked back at the screen.

It was over fairly quickly. There was a round of polite applause. Nicky felt himself blush, swell a bit with pride. Louis took the stage, said a few pleasantries, and thanked everyone for coming, to please say hello to the lads if they wanted. Then the stage went dark again and they all wandered off. A hand touched him gently on the shoulder on the way back out to the ballroom.

“Ronan.”

“Hey, Louis.” He smiled. He didn't know what all that had been about, earlier, but it couldn't be true. Louis had been nothing but good to him since he'd signed up, been really respectful of his limits, and Nicky appreciated the opportunity more than he could say. And the money. The money was certainly nice.

“You got a second?”

He did. Louis ushered him aside, out of the way.

“Everything alright?”

“Fine. Yeah.” Nicky nodded. “Why?”

“Just thought you looked a bit pale.” Louis touched his arm. “You getting enough sleep?”

“I think so.” He shrugged. “It's been a bit manic lately. Do I look tired?” He touched his face. That was the last thing he needed. Pale and tired. Maybe he'd see about going to one of those tanning places. “Sorry.”

“You look fine,” Louis assured him. “Just make sure you're not burning yourself out, okay?” Nicky nodded. “Have a couple of days off, if you want. Come in on Monday. I've got some bookings you might be interested in.”

“I don't need time off. Honestly.” That was the last thing he needed. Louis thinking he was slacking off. He didn't want to slack off. Have other guys come in while he wasn't there and take his shoots, get in under him. He needed to be there. Working. Proving himself. “I'm fine. I can come in tomorrow, if you want.”

“Come in on Monday,” Louis repeated.

“I'll do that gang-bang, if you want.”

“I've already given it to Jax.” Nicky felt himself sag. “It's fine. He bottoms, anyway, so it's probably more suitable for him. We've already announced it on the site.” Louis smiled. “Don't take it personally, yeah? We'll find you something.” Nicky nodded.

Louis wandered off a minute later, snagging a glass of champagne on the way.

Nicky headed back out, feeling his stomach roll.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Nicky was sitting on the sofa when Mark got home. He hadn't expected it, really. Nicky was out most of the time, and when he was in he was usually on his way to somewhere. Work, the gym. Now he was sat with a blanket around him, watching...

TV.

“What's this?”

“Bought a TV.” He said it curtly, like it was an obvious thing and Mark shouldn't ask too many questions. And after the laptop fiasco Mark wasn't sure he wanted to.

“Oh.” He sat down next to Nicky. It wasn't a huge TV, but it was a nice flat-screen, and there was a DVD player hooked up underneath.

“That alright?”

“It's your money.” Nicky nodded quickly. Mark touched his shoulder. “It's very nice.”

“Yeah. The man said it was the best definition they had. Something to do with pixels. I didn't really understand.” He looked at Mark. “So... yeah.”

“Do you need me to chip in?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Mark grabbed the other end of the blanket, pulled it over his own lap. Felt Nicky sidle a little closer. “So... what are we watching?”

“Jerry Springer.”

“You bought a fancy TV to watch people shout at each other?” Nicky shrugged. “You want me to go get a DVD or something?”

“This is fine.” Nicky looked at him, finally. Mark was struck, suddenly, by how tired he looked. Thin in the face and not well. He touched Nicky's cheek, felt stubble scratch his hand.

“You want something to eat?”

“Already ate.”

“Oh.” He felt Nicky turn into his touch a little bit. Felt his heart ache for reasons he couldn't explain. “Would you like a hug?”

He saw Nicky hesitate. Blue eyes caught on his, trying to look away, like a piece of lint stuck to ratty velcro. Mark cupped Nicky's cheek gently. Saw a bitten lip, thoughtful eyes.

“Yes please,” Nicky murmured.

Mark wrapped around him. Felt Nicky sag. Felt arms wrap around his waist. A blonde head landed on his shoulder as he began to stroke his hands up a back that felt too thin, at ribs that bumped under his fingers. He felt Nicky shudder, felt a heave, and then Nicky was crying, Mark not sure what was going on, but knowing he couldn't let go of Nicky. Not when he heard a harsh, angry sob, like something was caught in Nicky's throat.

Nicky cried himself out a few minutes later, but he didn't pull away.

Mark kept stroking his back, kissing his hair while some stupid cow on TV screamed at her brother about something that probably didn't matter.

 

*

 

The bath was hot when Nicky sank in. Mark's idea, actually, and now he was in Nicky was inclined to agree. It was hot, soaking up around him, almost to his chin, and he felt his muscles relax for the first time in a long time. He sighed, feeling a little of the stress rush out of him.

“Want a cup of tea?”

“Yes please,” Nicky called back. “Black, no sugar.”

“Really?” Nicky winced. Mark was used to his usual. Milk and three. But he'd been cutting back on all that stuff and they didn't have skimmed in the house. Mark seemed to accept it, though, because he wandered away from the door. Nicky closed his eyes, sinking into the water.

When he opened them the door was creaking open. Mark stepped in, mug in one hand, eyes shielded with the other. It was very cute, actually. Nicky sat up, pulling his knees to his chest for a bit of propriety.

“Thanks.”

Mark peeked through his fingers, smiled when he realised Nicky was reasonably decent. The bubbles hid what his knees didn't. He took the mug, held it to his chest. Mark went to leave, but then he hesitated, loitered in the doorway for a few seconds before turning back around.

“Nicky?”

“Yeah.”

“Just...” Mark scratched the back of his neck. “If you need to talk to me, you can. Honestly. I won't be upset. If something's wrong, you know? I'm not going to judge or anything.”

That was easy to say. Nicky shook his head. Not going to judge was for things like having a gambling problem, or dating some girl who wasn't right for him. It wasn't for...

“I'm okay,” Nicky promised. And he was. Of course he was. They had a new TV and all. “It's just been a really long week. I'm tired and... I'm sorry. About before. I think I just need a sleep.”

“They're running you ragged.” Mark pursed his lips. “Don't you get a day off or anything?”

“I do. This weekend.” That seemed to comfort Mark a little. It didn't comfort Nicky. Time off was time forgotten, time they'd spend giving jobs to other people. Jax had taken his gang-bang, and while Nicky hadn't been exactly looking forward to doing it, he didn't want people to think he was slack, that he wasn't up to it. And of course they'd chosen Jax over him. Jax was tall, gorgeous, built, and Nicky was this sad, weak, soft thing that couldn't even bend over and take it.

“You want to go do anything? We could go to the cinema or something?”

“Maybe,” Nicky agreed. That did sound nice. He hadn't done anything like that with Mark in months. “Might take Saturday as a personal day, you know? Have a good sleep. Sunday?”

“It's a date.”

“Is it?” Nicky chuckled. “Well, I don't know what you've heard but I don't let boys in my knickers on a first date.”

“Noted. I'll try to keep my hands to myself.” Mark winked. “I'll let you finish your bath, anyway.” The bubbles were starting to pop. Mark was going to see something, and probably quite soon. Nicky didn't know how he felt about that. He spent half his day naked, but this was Mark. His best friend. He could handle disappointment from other people, they were paid to fancy him, but not Mark. Mark was here because he liked Nicky, and Nicky didn't want to give him cause to feel otherwise.

“Mark?”

“Yeah?” Mark's hand was already on the doorknob.

He didn't know what to say. Blue eyes looked at him, all honesty and concern.

“Thanks for the cuppa, yeah?”

Mark smiled and pushed out the door.

“Any time.”

 

*

 

Nicky was definitely hiding something.

It was late on Saturday afternoon and his flatmate had been in bed almost all day. He'd staggered out of his room around lunchtime, collapsed on the sofa next to Mark to watch TV, then nodded off again. Mark had made him lunch. He said he wasn't hungry, but he nibbled at a little bit. Twenty minutes later he went to the bathroom and Mark could have sworn he could hear the sound of Nicky being sick.

When he came back out he smiled weakly, said he was going for a run, and left the house. He was back an hour later, took a shower, and now he was in bed again, Mark able to hear the springs squeaking as he moved.

Mark didn't know what to do. Something was wrong. This wasn't like Nicky at all. And Mark had seen him in the bath the other night, though Nicky had tried to hide it. He looked fitter, Mark supposed, his shoulders and chest more defined, arms bulked out a little bit, but he looked... thin. Like all that muscle was only poking out because there was nothing else left to soften it.

He was worried. Nicky had money coming in, but he didn't look well. Not at all. Tired all the time, and his mood shifting between being too upbeat and being so in his own head it was scary. Mark didn't know what to do.

Maybe - and this was the thought he really didn't want to entertain – maybe Nicky was sick. Out all hours of the day, losing weight fast, not wanting to eat and being ill and trying to hide it. He'd gone to visit his parents a lot of evenings. And that little burst of crying the evening before wasn't comforting in the slightest. Something was eating Nicky up, and for the first time Mark started to wonder if that wasn't just metaphorical.

He stood up. Meant to check on Nicky. Sat back down. What was he going to go in there and say, exactly? Ask if Nicky really did have cancer, or whatever the hell it was? What if Mark was wrong. And he probably was. They were best friends. If Nicky was sick, Mark thought he would tell him.

But what if he wouldn't? What if...

Mark felt a knot yank tight in his stomach.

No. That was mad.

There had to be something else. Some other explanation. Something that would make it all make sense.

He got dinner on. Just something small and light, a salad. When Nicky came out, rubbing his eyes sleepily, he ate less than half the plate, thanked Mark for dinner, and went to sit on the sofa in front of the TV. Mark put on a DVD and sat with him.

Halfway into the movie Mark shifted a little closer and put his arm around Nicky's shoulders. Nicky snuggled in without comment, and when Mark went to move away a few minutes later, a hand covered his, keeping him there.

He kissed Nicky's hair and settled, hand making long strokes up the bump of a ribcage.

 

*

 

Nicky sat up late, staring at his phone.

He'd been doing it all day. He'd gotten up in the morning, hung out with Mark for a bit, then decided to go afford himself the luxury of a nap. The bed had been soft, the covers warm, but within ten minutes he'd been staring at his phone, watching comments float past.

_That's it, Ronan, fucking take that ass_

_Look at that monster cock. I'd let that boy come all over me._

_Needs to bottom. Cute boy, average top. Get him reamed before he ages out. Wouldn't mind seeing him with Aaron Blue. God yeah. Can I start a petition for Ronan West to take enormous black cock?_

_I'd sign that petition, lol_

_Nah, just another fucking straight boy who won't pillowbite. Flavour of the month, I swear. Like, he's cute, but he's gotta bring something to the table and it ain't his acting._

_He can suck a dick tho._

_Yeah but would you let those gnarly teeth near your knob?_

_I looooooooove this boy. Pretty sure I want his babies. And by babies, I mean his cock in my ass._

_Where did they get the couch, do you know? I've been looking for one like that, with the deep seat and high back, but I can't bloody find one. It'd go class with my wallpaper._

_Did you see him bend Leo Connolly over in that rope scene? Fucking BAM. That boy has some stress to work out._

_Eh, who cares. I heard Jax Jacobs is putting out a gang-bang next week._

He jumped when he heard the toilet flush down the hall. He hadn't even heard Mark get up, had been too focused staring at his phone. He heard feet pad back down the hall, then pause in front of his room. He shoved the phone under the pillow just as the door cracked open.

“Hey.” Mark gave him a sleepy smile. “Sorry, saw your light on. You still up?”

“Yeah.” Nicky rested back against the pillow. “Can't sleep.”

“Oh.” Mark nodded. “Well, I'm going back to bed. You want me to make you a hot chocolate or anything?”

“No. Thanks.” He didn't even feel hungry any more, not really, which was odd. The salad at dinner had been quite filling anyway. “Night, Marky.”

“Night.”

He began to close the door. Nicky smiled.

There was a soft _ding_ from under the pillow.

The door stopped moving.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Just...” Mark pursed his lips. “Thought I heard something.”

“I didn't hear anything.” Nicky shrugged. “Maybe you're hearing things?”

“Maybe,” Mark chuckled. “Okay, well, goodnight then.”

“Night.”

The door closed.

Nicky pulled his phone back out, set it to silent, turned out the light, and lay there in the dark, the glow of the screen bathing the pillow and blocking out everything else.

 

*

 

It was quiet at the restaurant. It usually was, at five in the morning. Just after all the drunken revellers had stumbled out, on their way to a quality hangover, and before all the families and students came in in the morning. Mark leaned on the counter near the coffee machine, chin rested in his hand.

He'd been doing well, on holidays. As luck had it one of the girls had quit just before he'd finished up the semester, and there were suddenly a raft of free shifts available. Most of them at ridiculous hours, but he figured he could stand a few midnight starts if it meant being able to save some money. He was even managing to put a little aside now, and it was comforting, having that safety net. He hadn't had one since he'd lost his savings in the burglary.

By the time it was almost nine he was ready to clock off and go home to sleep. He glanced at his watch. Ten more minutes. If he hurried out of here right on time he'd probably make his bus.

“Mark?”

He turned. Got a bright smile. It took him a moment to realise, he'd only met them a few times, but Nicky's dad was the spit of him, so it wasn't difficult to recognise them.

“Hey!” It was both Nicky's parents, and his little brother. “What are you guys doing here?”

“On the way to get some shopping done, thought we'd stop in for breakfast,” Yvonne explained. Adam looked bored already, was staring off into space, though in fairness Mark was sure this wasn't stimulating conversation for a fourteen year old. “How've you been, love?”

“Not bad, yeah.” He smiled. “And you?”

“Getting along. How's Nicky? I haven't spoken to him in a few weeks. Tried to call, but his phone's been off.”

“He's fine.” A few weeks? Nicky had said he'd gone to visit on Monday afternoon. Something odd was going on. “Haven't seen him so much with his new job, but yeah, everything's fine.”

“New job? I thought he was still at the supermarket?”

“Oh...” Okay, now Mark was sure something wasn't right. “Yeah, he got it a couple of months ago.”

“Really? He didn't mention it.” Mark didn't know what to say. He felt like he'd fucked up somewhere, but wasn't sure how. What he was supposed to say. He didn't want to drop Nicky in it, but at the same time he was beginning to get worried.

“Yeah, I think it's just casual. Erm...” He glanced behind them. There was a queue building up. “I'd better get you seated, it's starting to get busy. You want a booth or a table?”

He got them sorted out, got their drinks sent over, and then, blessedly, his shift was over. He waved to them on his way out. They waved back.

He made his bus, climbed on. When he got home Nicky was still asleep, curled up under the sheets. He looked tired. Mark stared at him a long moment, trying to figure it out. Why Nicky was lying, why he didn't look well. All the other things that just weren't adding up.

His own bed was soft. He fell asleep soon after, and when he woke up Nicky had already gone out.

 

*

 

Nicky was on the way to the gym when his old phone rang. He tended to keep it in his satchel, in case his parents or Mark called, though he hardly used it any more. For a moment he didn't even recognise the ringtone, though when he fumbled it out his mother's name was on the screen.

“Nicky?”

“Hey, mam.” He smiled. For all his lies about visiting them, he hadn't actually seen them in weeks. In a strange way he almost felt like he was avoiding it, like he didn't want them to somehow see what he was doing. He didn't want them to be disappointed in him. Not for a second. When he heard her voice, though, he felt something small in him relax, something fundamental that just wanted to talk to his mam.

“Just calling to say hi.”

“Hi. Sorry I haven't been round. How's everyone?”

“Grand. They say hello. How's everything with you?”

“Not bad. Just getting on with it.”

“We ran into Mark this morning.”

“Oh, really?” He winced, hoped Mark hadn't mentioned about how Nicky had apparently been at theirs the other night.

“He said you've got a new job.”

Shit.

“Erm... yeah. Sorry, I should have told you. It's at this online startup thing, just running errands.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“It's actually really boring,” he chuckled. “I'm just getting people coffee, carrying messages, all that sort of stuff. It pays better than the supermarket, anyway, so I thought I'd give it a go. Everyone there's really nice.”

“Well, as long as you're happy.” Nicky didn't know what to say to that. He was happy, he supposed. The money was good, at least. “Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

“Mam!” He laughed. “Bit personal!”

“A mother can dream,” she chuckled. “Well, we're doing afternoon tea on Sunday if you want to come round. Bring Mark, if you like. Just some biscuits and coffee. Your nan's coming as well.”

“I'll see if I can make it.”

“Okay, love, let me know.” She paused. “Oh, here, your da wants to talk to you.”

“I'm just walking into work so I'll have to raincheck.” He couldn't talk to his dad. Spin the same lies. It was exhausting, and he'd never been able to lie to his old man. “Give him my love.” He said goodbye and hung up, shoved the phone back in his satchel. He was still only halfway to the gym, another ten minutes walk at least.

He put his head down and began to walk faster.

 

*

 

Nicky was back around one that afternoon wearing his gym clothes, went straight into the shower, dumping his gym bag in the bedroom on the way. Mark stood up once he heard the shower running and snuck into the bedroom.

This was bad. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but none of it added up. It was all too odd. The weight loss, the long absences and strange hours, the sudden money. The sex toys, which was really weird, but that might just have been Nicky. God knew Mark didn't tell Nicky about his own wanking habits.

He could hear Nicky in there, singing softly in the shower. He'd always done it. They were both terrible for it. Sometimes when he'd do it he'd hear Nicky singing along through the door, a giggling duet. It had been one of those silly in-jokes they'd always shared. One of those odd, unselfconscious things.

The gym bag was sat in the middle of the sheets, zipped shut. Mark put his hand on the tab. Knew he could stop now. It wasn't open yet. He could go back, sing along to Nicky through the bathroom door, maybe get a laugh and a flick with the towel when Nicky came out.

He opened the bag.

It all looked pretty standard. The clothes he'd obviously worn out that morning, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. His wallet and keys were tucked into the side pocket. He reached in deeper, not sure what he was looking for.

He opened the pocket a little wider. Peered inside.

A phone.

A nice one. Not like the crappy flip one Nicky had bought at the supermarket last year, a fancy one. It looked new, expensive. He pulled it out and pressed the button on the side.

The screen was sparse. One of those internet things. It had email on it, instant messenger, internet access, all that sort of thing. Mark pressed the button for recent calls.

A whole bunch of numbers he didn't know came up. A few calls a day. He scrolled through. There was one that kept coming up, was probably over half of them. The shower was still running. He could hear Nicky singing.

He grabbed a pen from Nicky's side table, quickly scribbled down the number on the inside of his arm and pulled his sleeve down over it. He shoved the phone back in, yanked the zip closed, and was out in the hallway just as he heard the shower shut off.

He sat back down on the sofa. Nicky came out dressed, hair still damp, and smiled at him. Mark smiled back. Nicky went into the bedroom and came out shrugging on his satchel.

“Going out?”

“Yeah.” Nicky adjusted his jacket. “Got work. Be back later.”

“Okay.” The door closed behind him. Mark pulled up his sleeve.

He really shouldn't.

He grabbed his phone and began to dial.

 

*

 

“I'm sorry, Ronan, I don't have anything for you.”

“But...” He sat forward in the chair. “Nothing?”

“Full roster, lad. Have to thank you, honestly. I've been getting all these lads wanting to sign up. Simon's people, too, interested in having a more personal performance experience. You're a trailblazer.” Louis opened the planner on his desk. “I can book you in for...” He tilted his head. “How about two weeks? I have a video slot free, new lad, want to start him off. Test him out with someone bit more experienced.”

“Two _weeks?”_

“Two weeks Tuesday.” Louis picked up his pen.

“But Louis...”

“Ronan.” He put down the pen. “I know you've been doing a lot of shoots lately, but that's just not how the industry works. We've got lots of lads, and there's demand for different things. I can't just plaster you all over the website. Yes, it was busy when we started up, but that was a promotional push. We ease off now, try to build our brand, and I have all kinds of lads who want to do all kinds of scenes. Now, I can get you in on two weeks Tuesday for the sort of thing you're suited for.”

“Suited for...”

“Suited for.” Louis folded his hands on the planner. “I did tell you how this works. I can only book you for things you're willing to do, and that's not what I'm shooting right now.”

“I...” He bit his lip. “Yeah,” he conceded. “Okay.” He let out a breath. “Well... what if I was willing to do other things?”

“Are you?” Louis raised an eyebrow. Nicky felt his stomach roll. “Please don't bullshit me, Ronan. I'm not going to book a scene and have you change your mind halfway in. They're not free to set up. I'm not paying crew just to have you not perform.” Nicky couldn't reply. He looked away. Louis nodded. “Exactly. Two weeks Tuesday.”

“Two weeks Tuesday,” Nicky agreed softly. Louis scribbled it into the planner. “Okay. Yes.” Nicky pushed himself out of the chair. “Thanks, Louis.”

“You're welcome.” Louis turned to look at his computer. “Shut the door on the way out.”

 

*

 

Mark didn't know what he was bloody doing, keying the address into the search bar. Though, admittedly, he'd been basically baffled since the very polite receptionist had picked up the phone.

“GayLadsXXX.com, how may I direct your call?”

He hadn't known what to say, had stood in silence for a long time until she'd said 'hello' again, startling him out of his stupor.

“Hi,” he managed. “I... was given a card a couple of weeks ago?”

“Really? Odd, we stopped expressions of interest two months ago.” She was very polite, very cheerful. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“Oh, I was just wondering. About the... the job. If it's still...”

“We've actually got a full roster at the moment, I'm sorry. Do you have a headshot and resume?"

“I... yes? Could I erm... could I have your address, please?” Maybe he could go there, see if it was really real. If Nicky was there. “I can post them.”

“All our resumes are accepted by email,” she explained. “You can find the information on our website. Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

“No,” he admitted. No. “Thanks for your time.”

“Thank you for calling and have a lovely day.” She hung up.

Now he was staring at the page for a gay porn site. He visited others, definitely, because shit, Kian was still four hours away and his balls weren't going to empty themselves, but apart from that one weird day he hadn't visited this one. He already had his preferences, knew what he liked, there was no point making it difficult for himself and risking a ton of viruses from some scam site.

He pursed his lips, not sure where to start. Maybe Nicky really was doing errands, and had just been too embarrassed to say where. He started to scroll down.

This was crazy. Nicky was straight. He wouldn't be doing gay porn, of all things.

He caught a glimpse of blonde hair and blue eyes in the sidebar, a crooked smile.

Holy shit, Nicky was doing gay porn.

 

*

 

Nicky climbed the stairs slowly. He was exhausted, hadn't slept well the night before, and the gym had really taken it out of him. He just wanted to sleep. He hoped Mark was out. He couldn't face his friend right now without crying, felt completely and utterly defeated.

Which was silly. It made sense, of course, and he had had been working quite a lot. He had more work booked in, and he had some money saved up. He could coast through for two weeks no problem.

He unlocked the door, pushed it open. Mark was in, sat cross-legged on the sofa, though he was closing his laptop. It snapped shut. He looked startled, for some reason, a little flushed in the cheeks.

“Hey.” Nicky sank down next to him.

“Hey,” Mark replied. Nicky closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them Mark was looking at him.

“What?”

Mark looked away. Nicky couldn't have said for sure, but he was fairly certain Mark hadn't been looking anywhere near his face.

“Nothing.” Mark stood up. “Gonna make lunch. You want something?”

“I'm fine.” He definitely wasn't going to go filling himself up on food now. Two weeks was a long time. He wasn't going to show up looking like shit, have his work cut again.

“Nicky...” Mark came back. He felt hands close on his shoulders and squeeze gently. “Are you sure there's nothing you want to talk about?”

“Definitely not.” He closed his eyes again, felt Mark's fingers start to massage the back of his neck. He moaned softly, leaned forward. “Oh, that's really nice.”

“You feel tense.”

“I'm okay.” He yawned. “I've actually got a week off. Gonna get some rest, maybe take some me time."

“Good.” Mark let go. Nicky missed his touch, warm and soft. “I'm going to make you some lunch, and you're going to eat it. And if you've got time off you can come camping with me and Kian next week.”

“Mark...” He sighed. That did sound nice. And it'd be good for him, maybe, get away for a bit. “Okay.”

“Good.” Mark patted his shoulder. “I'm making a casserole. Come help with chopping up the veg, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He pushed himself up. “Okay."

 


	12. Chapter 12

It was bloody cold, out in the woods. By the time they reached the camp site Nicky had the distinct feeling they'd been walking for ever, at least far enough to drop a ring into a volcano and get an eagle-ride home. He was bloody exhausted, had necked most of the bottle of water he'd brought already. The car was parked somewhere back near the road, and they'd hiked the rest of the way with their tents and packs strapped on, Nicky stumbling slightly on the soft ground and Kian chuckling every time he did, like it was so bloody easy.

“Alright?” Mark glanced back over his shoulder. Nicky nodded, hefting the backpack.

“It's cold.”

“Bit chilly,” Shane said unhelpfully. He seemed nice enough. They'd arrived at Kian's flat that morning, gotten on the road after a cup of tea. Nicky had napped through most of the train ride up here, and now he felt groggy and sleepy, though the breeze was certainly slapping some colour back into his cheeks.

“You want a muesli bar?”

“No thanks.” Nicky waved away the offer. Shane kept looking at him funny, which was a bit offputting. Friendly, just... odd. Maybe that was how Shane flirted, or something. If so, Nicky really thought he was barking up the wrong tree. “How far away is it?”

“Almost there,” Kian promised. They crested the top of the hill a few minutes later, and Nicky sighed with relief when he saw a small, worn campsite, the cleared ground surrounding a tangle of burnt sticks that once had been a campfire. Mark dumped his bag on the ground, so Nicky did too. He stretched, feeling the muscles in his shoulders burn.

They made camp quickly. Kian and Mark were sharing, obviously, which put Nicky in with Shane. They pitched the tent, unrolled their sleeping bags, then Mark made a start on lunch. Kian peeled potatoes, Mark got some beans on over the fire, and Shane wandered away to take a leak in the woods.

“What if I need to take a shit?” Nicky asked. Mark looked up, laughing. Nicky shrugged. It seemed a sensible enough question. Though he'd been a lot less regular lately. Not constipated, just... empty. Though with his diet and everything it wasn't a huge surprise.

“Go down the hill a bit and dig a trench near the big spruce.”

“Which one's the spruce?”

“They're all bloody spruces,” Mark chuckled. “Let me know when you're going. I'll show you.” He took one of the peeled potatoes and began to chop it on a board he'd rested over his knees. Nicky didn't know how he did it. Backpacks and tents and the rest and he'd still managed to bring half the bloody kitchen. He'd probably produce a spice rack next.

They had lunch when Shane came back. Nicky had a little, though it was all from the same pot so no-one really noticed if he didn't stuff himself. Then, when they were finished, Kian suggested a swim, so they started heading for the lough down the hill, Mark pointing at the spruce on the way. It looked like all the other bloody trees.

Kian barrelled in quickly. He was a good-looking lad, actually. Nicky had only seen him with his shirt off once or twice, but he was strong, fit. Nicky wondered how he did it, stuffing himself with potatoes and beans, though maybe he went to the gym a lot. He couldn't ask, of course, or look weird, but he did wonder if he could fit it into the conversation later, take some notes. Kian's shoulders, especially. He'd be happy with shoulders like that.

Shane jumped in too. Mark started to peel off his socks, stuffing them into his shoes to keep them clean.

“Coming in?”

“Bit cold.” Nicky shivered.

“It'll be alright once you're in,” Mark promised. “Come on.”

Nicky began to kick off his shoes. His socks went next. He considered going in with his shirt on, but he didn't want it to be cold and wet on the walk back. He stripped it off as well, heard a whistle.

“Take it off,” Kian jeered. Nicky stuck his tongue out. Kian gave him two fingers. Mark was pulling off his t-shirt as well. Nicky paused. He didn't think he'd ever seen Mark without a shirt. Mark was a bit private like that. He was cute, though. Dark chest hair and a soft belly. He went a bit pink, turned away slightly to undo his belt, like he was embarrassed, and Nicky saw a strong back, squidgy little love handles that looked perfect for grabbing.

“Going in?” Mark said. Nicky nodded, began to strip off down to his underwear. He sprinted towards the water, determined to get the shock out of the way, then he was in, the cold punching the air from his lungs, water murky in his eyes. He came up gasping.

“Yeah, bit cold,” Kian teased. Nicky splashed him. Shane laughed, and began to paddle past them, though when Nicky glanced over at him, he saw that strange, evaluating look again, something in it he couldn't quite place.

 

*

 

It was a bit bloody cold in here. Mark sank below the water, trying to stop the cool air touching too much wet skin, and paddled slowly backwards. Nicky was laid on his back, floating gently and staring up at the sky.

“Hey,” Kian murmured. Mark felt arms wrap around his waist, smiled when a kiss touched the back of his neck. “You alright? You've been quiet today.”

“Yeah, just an early morning.” It had been, up at five to lock up the flat and get on the train. Nicky had napped a little on the train, but Mark hadn't been able to. Kept finding himself staring at Nicky, not able to make it fit in his head.

He'd watched all the videos. All of them. Had felt disgusting doing it, like he was peeking into something private. Except it wasn't private, was it? It was all over the internet, and apparently everyone knew about it except him. He didn't know how to feel. Relieved, maybe, that all of this finally made some sort of sense, but impossibly betrayed at the same time. Nicky had been doing this for months, had lied about it, brought home money and gifts, and Mark didn't know that he liked where they had all come from. That Nicky had exploited himself like that to get them.

He kept thinking he should broach the subject with Nicky, but he didn't know how to. Nicky had been so closed off lately, didn't seem to want to talk about it. They'd been drifting further apart. Mark could feel it. Things had felt easy before, and now it felt like they were circling each other, like they were flatmates again, instead of friends. He felt lonely, lied to.

Though at least that weird afternoon with Mark sucking off a dildo made sense.

Part of him couldn't believe it. That the boy sucking an enormous cock onscreen, spanking some bulked-out lad, hammering into that skinny twink with that – admittedly – enormous cock, was the same Nicky he'd sat up drunk with at two in the morning, mucked around in the arcade with, had random, stupid conversations, and who had consoled him when he was missing Kian... That that boy could possibly be the same person as the cheeky, friendly bundle of energy he'd moved in with over a year ago. He could barely see that lad now.

All he could see was...

He shook his head, trying to clear the image. Nicky sank under the water again, began to stroke out into the sunlight, where it was a bit warmer.

“Wanna sneak off into that old cave down the shore and have sex?”

Mark laughed, surprised. Kian's arms tightened.

“We haven't done that in years.”

“I know.” He heard a soft growl. “Our first time, remember?”

He did. They'd gone swimming, crawled into that stupid cave to have a rest. They'd been out to each other, and Mark finally felt like he had someone to talk to. A confidant. His best friend. They'd ended up kissing in the cave. Kian had kissed a couple of boys, Mark had only kissed one, but this was different, soft at first, testing, then hard and full of heat.

He didn't think he'd been in love with Kian at the time, didn't think Kian had been in love with him, but that hadn't been the point. It had been safe, and careful, both of them asking the other if they were okay a hundred times. Taking care of each other and letting Kian cry for a little while afterwards because shit, there'd been a lot of pent up emotion going on, the guilt and secrecy boiling over. Then Mark had kissed away his tears, and Kian had laughed, and they'd snuggled up in that little cave, shivering and wet, Kian's fingers tracing his cheek slowly.

“I love you,” Kian said softly. Mark nodded. “Let's go. I want you.”

“Okay,” Mark decided. For old times. Some part of him missed that, when things had been simple. When it had been he and Kian, and none of the anger or misery, when it had been about honesty and someone caring about him. He glanced at Nicky, but Nicky was still swimming away, headed for the bank. Mark watched him go. Looked over his shoulder at Kian and earned himself a peck on the mouth.

“Come on,” Kian said. “They'll be alright on their own.”

 

*

 

Where did the others go?” Nicky swam back out. He'd gone to find a quiet place away from the others to surreptitiously pee in the water, silently apologising to any nearby fish as he did, but when he'd come back around the tree it was just Shane on his own, bobbing in the middle of the lake.

“Oh, just... off. They'll be back.” Shane rolled his eyes slightly, and Nicky understood.

“They've gone for a quickie haven't they?”

“So you've met them?” They both snorted. “It's fine. I think there's a little cave or something up the way a bit, so they'll probably be in there.”

“Want to go make ghost noises and freak them out?”

“I really do.” Shane laughed, but didn't make a move. He sank below the water, head poking out, then looked up. “You're him, aren't you?”

“Sorry?”

“Him.” Shane's face was going red. Nicky's heart was in his throat. Shit. Shit. “You're... Ronan, right? Ronan West?”

“I...” He heard his voice crack. “I don't know who that is.”

“Oh my god, you are.” Shane's hand came out of the water to cover his mouth. “Holy shit, you're like a celebrity.”

“Celebrity? No. God.” Celebrity? “Just...” He thought about lying, but Shane was looking certain now and there was really no way around it. They didn't have internet out here, obviously – and shit, leaving his phone at home had been one of the hardest things had Nicky ever had to do – but Shane would be able to look it up when he got back, and what if he showed Kian?

“I thought it was you! Like, I knew you looked familiar, but then I heard your voice and I saw...” He glanced at Nicky's groin. Nicky felt himself go red, and sank lower in the water. “This is mental. I've jerked off to you!” He gave Nicky an embarrassed grimace. “Sorry, that sounded really bad.”

“It's... fine,” Nicky sighed. “Please don't tell anyone. Mark doesn't know.”

“Seriously?” Shane blinked. “I thought you two lived together.”

“Yeah, it's... complicated.”

“What about Kian?”

“ _Especially_ don't tell Kian.” Nicky groaned. “Fuck.”

“Sorry.”

“It's fine. I guess it's a compliment.” He smiled awkwardly at Shane. “So, you enjoyed my stuff, then?” He knew this was treading thin ice, but when was he ever going to get outside feedback?

“Yeah! Like, I tend to watch most of Chance Hart's stuff, and I saw that bit you two did, and I was like, oh he's cute, so I checked your page. I loved that solo shower one. That's on my favourites list.”

“Thanks,” Nicky laughed. This was bizarre. “That was a fun day.”

“You ever going to bottom?”

“No,” Nicky said firmly. Though he had to admit he'd been thinking about it. It wouldn't be so bad, he was sure. Everyone else could do it, and it'd probably get him more work. “I'm straight.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I am.” Nicky shrugged. “It's good money.”

“Well, you do well pulling it off, then.” Shane giggled. “So to speak.” Nicky laughed as well. “Well... cool. I don't know what to say to you now. Congratulations on...” He gestured at Nicky's groin. “That.”

“Cheers.” He ran a hand through his hair shyly. “You won't tell the others though?”

“Lips are sealed,” Shane promised. Nicky sagged slightly with relief. He'd have to be careful, though. He didn't really know this guy that well, and Shane certainly had no loyalty to him, especially over people he'd known for years. Nicky hoped he'd stick by it. “Erm...” He shrugged. “I don't fucking know. You want to race or something?”

“Sure,” Nicky agreed. Shane smiled brightly. He seemed a nice enough lad, anyway. “Over to that rock and back?”

Shane was already swimming. Nicky laughed, and followed.

 

*

 

“It's okay,” Kian sighed. Mark groaned, covering his eyes. He felt fucking ridiculous. Oh, there'd been moments like these over the years, usually when he was tired or drunk or not really in the mood and trying to force it, but...

“I'm really sorry.”

“It's fine. It's cold.” Kian patted his stomach. “You want to make out a bit instead?”

“Yeah. I don't know.” He glanced back down, flicking at softening flesh. Kian kissed his cheek. “Sorry.”

“It's really fine.” Kian pulled him into a hug. It was nice like this, warm skin on his, a little goosepimply in the cold. He kissed Kian's neck, felt a firm erection press into his stomach.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. It had felt okay, climbing in, laughing, snogging and pulling off underwear that stuck to them like velcro in the wet. Then he'd been kissing down Kian's throat, enjoying the soft, encouraging moans and all he'd been able to think about was...

He blinked away the thought. Wanted to cry, suddenly, for reasons he couldn't express. He felt hopeless, startlingly alone, suddenly. In a few days he was going to go back to Dublin, leave this perfect boy behind who loved him, and for what? For a course he didn't like in a career he didn't want, and a best friend he didn't know how to talk to? Shit, Nicky could pay his own rent now, had been doing it for the last month or so without asking for Mark's input. He didn't want to be a mooch, to have Nicky giving him favours out of something he was doing behind Mark's back. He didn't want...

“Kian, I...” He'd been thinking about this longer than he wanted to admit. “Are you sure you don't want to move to Dublin?”

“You know I can't,” Kian sighed. “It's only for six more months, anyway. Then we can figure out what to do.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “I think...” He looked up. “Would you move to Dublin after that?”

“Maybe. I don't know.” Kian shrugged. “I suppose it depends on where I get a job. You know what it's like with teaching. I could end up in Donegal or Cork or bloody anywhere.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He felt tears fill his eyes. He'd known it, too. Even though it was long distance, there had been something comforting in knowing their relationship was forced into this position. It was easier than thinking they could choose to be together and weren't. “I... I was thinking I might move back to Sligo,” he admitted. “It's too late to change my course, but maybe I can come back and live with you and Shane, take a semester off, and then when you figure out where you're going to be I could look at universities in the area, see if I can finish off my degree.”

Kian didn't reply. Mark felt him stiffen, though, felt the hand on the back of his neck loosen. He looked up, saw blue eyes wide with surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah. I was thinking. If you want me to.”

“Why would I not want you to, you utter knob?” Kian pulled him into a tighter hug, forcing a laugh out of Mark's chest. “Yes. Absolutely. You...” He kissed Mark's hair. “Fuck.” He pressed a kiss to Mark's cheek, started peppering them all over his face. Mark giggled, shoving him slightly. Kian held him tighter. “When?”

“Maybe give it a month or so? I'll have to put in notice at work, organise getting my name off the lease and bills and things, look for a job up here, but...” He snuggled into Kian's neck. This was the right decision. He could feel it already. He felt like he'd let out a deep breath he'd been holding too long. “Soon. Six weeks at the most. And it's not like I've got much to move. Most of it got nicked.”

“Well, you can bring back the kettle I bought you,” Kian joked. Mark smirked. “Let's do one better, okay? Let's find our own flat.”

“What about Shane?”

“What about Nicky?” Kian shrugged. “They're their own people. They'll sort themselves out.”

“Yeah, but...” Mark felt bad, now. Shane didn't make much money, not with studying as well. He wouldn't be able to afford to live on his own. “It's only for six months, babe. Let's not find a new place and then have to move again when you get a job. I don't mind staying with you and Shane.”

“I do,” Kian replied. “I want you all to myself.” He dug his fingers into Mark's ribs, bit possessively into his jaw. Mark laughed and batted him away. “Think about it, alright? We've got a little while. If you want to, I'll start looking for flats.”

“Okay,” Mark conceded. He didn't see the point, but if Kian wanted to they could probably afford something small together in Sligo if Mark got a job quickly, and he had some money saved up since Nicky had been getting paid more...

It wasn't something he wanted to think about. He kissed Kian's cheek, felt fingers stroke his back.

“I love you,” Kian said softly. “No matter what else, I love you.”

“Ditto.” Mark closed his eyes. They'd have to get up soon, head back to the others. He wanted to stay here, wrapped up in the boy he loved. And anyway, it was going to be a pain in the arse to get his wet boxers back on.

 

*

 

Mark and Kian came swimming back about half an hour after they'd disappeared. They didn't look particularly well-fucked, but there was something else, something happy, yet slightly nervous shining out of their faces. Mark kept glancing between Nicky and Shane on the way back up to the campsite, and Kian wasn't looking at anyone, was staring down at his feet like they'd pissed him off somehow.

The rest of the afternoon was okay. They sat around having a singalong to Kian's guitar, and it all felt quite friendly, though he kept getting little glances from Shane, giggly little smiles, and Nicky didn't know how to respond to that, just wanted Shane to keep his damn mouth shut.

Mark made dinner. Sausages and some more potatoes. More starchy, fatty nonsense, though Nicky managed to get away with nibbling a couple of mouthfuls then hiding the rest in a hole in the log he was sitting on when the others weren't watching. They cleaned up after, and Shane made a comment about making sure they got everything so they wouldn't get foxes or pine martens being drawn by leftover food. Nicky glanced nervously at the log and made a note to clean out the scraps when the others weren't looking.

There wasn't much opportunity. They had quite a nice night, all round. Kian got the guitar back out, Shane produced a bag of marshmallows. By the time it was late Shane and Kian seemed determined to be the last two up. Mark was yawning, looked ready for bed, and Nicky didn't know that he could stay awake much longer.

He slid into his tent, meant to stay awake, but before long he was asleep.

When he opened his eyes it was dark and quiet.

Shane was asleep beside him, snoring gently. Nicky didn't know when he'd come to bed, but when he quietly unzipped the tent and peered out it appeared everyone had packed it in. He snuck out, gathered up the contents of the log, tossed them in the river, and then headed back to bed. He'd been laying there only a few minutes, trying to nod off again, when he heard Kian's voice.

“Shane,” he whispered. Nicky heard Shane grunt softly beside him. The tent unzipped a little and Nicky saw a hand reach in and shake Shane's foot. “Shane. Come on.”

Shane woke with a snort, looking around. Nicky pretended to be asleep. The last thing he needed was a late night conversation with Kian. He watched as Shane stumbled from the tent, pulling a jacket around himself.

“What's going on?” Shane whispered.

“Come on,” Kian replied. “Mark'll hear us.”

He heard footsteps shift away in the darkness.

Then, intrigued, Nicky grabbed his coat and followed them.

It was dark. The woods were almost black. It hadn't been so hard finding the river, with the moon shining off the surface, and the noise of babbling water, but the other path went deeper into the trees, blocking out the starlight. Nicky heard footsteps ahead of him, crunching through the undergrowth, and tried to time his own steps to them so they wouldn't hear. They couldn't be more than fifty feet ahead of him, though he couldn't see them.

The footsteps stopped. Nicky stopped as well, leaned against a tree in the dark, Shane and Kian around the corner.

“What's going on?”

“I just...” Kian sighed. “Look, I wanted to talk to you. About Mark?” There was silence. He heard Kian sigh again. “Shane...”

“We aren't going to have this conversation again, are we?” Shane sounded fed up.

“No, not... that one.” Kian hesitated. “Look, I was talking to him today and he's moving back home.”

Nicky felt his heart seize. What? Mark had mentioned that at all. When had that happened? He leaned closer, trying to hear over the hammering in his chest.

“Oh,” Shane said quietly. “Right.”

“He's going to move in with us. Just for six months. Until I get a job and we can move in together.” Nicky couldn't see them, but he heard feet shuffle in the leaves. “So... look, it's up to you but right now I would prefer it if you moved out.”

“Excuse me?” Shane sounded shocked, shrill. “Me? You fucking move out.”

“I suggested that, but he doesn't understand why, when I already have a flat. It's just... It's complicated.”

“Is it? Shit, Kian, I didn't realise,” Shane said sarcastically. He sounded angry. Nicky couldn't really blame him. “Well, I don't really want to live with you and your boyfriend either, but I'm not going to go kicking people out of my flat.”

“It's my name on the lease.”

“Fuck you,” Shane spat back.

“I'm not kicking you out,” Kian argued. “I'm not. You can stay if you want, I just... it's for you as well. I don't want things to be awkward.”

“You don't want me telling your boyfriend we're sleeping together,” Shane shot back. Nicky blinked. “I wasn't exactly going to, Kian. He's my friend as well.”

“We're not sleeping together. It was one time.”

“It was two times.”

“Two times,” Kian conceded. Nicky felt rage build in his chest. He wanted to stalk into the clearing, punch Kian square in the mouth. He couldn't, was rooted to the spot with anger. “It didn't mean anything. We'd been fighting a lot and I was... you know it was a mistake.”

“Of course it didn't mean anything,” Shane laughed bitterly. “And believe me, it was a mistake.” He heard feet stalk back towards the path, and flinched behind the tree, hoping Shane wouldn't spot him. The crunching stopped. Nicky tried to keep still. “Maybe I should move out,” he said. “This friendship has obviously played out.”

“I didn't mean that. We're friends. We are.” Kian sounded a little hysterical. “Shane...” More crunching, coming closer. He peeked around the tree, saw Shane sag into the hug Kian pulled him into. “I'm really sorry,” he heard Kian murmur. “I love Mark. Please don't make me lose him over this.”

“I...” Shane sighed. “Okay.” He kissed Kian's cheek. “You know I wouldn't tell him, right?”

“I know. He kind of sprung it on me and I guess I sort of panicked. I'm sorry. I overreacted.” Kian pulled away. “Stay as long as you want.”

“I might start looking for somewhere else, if it's all the same to you,” Shane admitted. Kian nodded. “Give you two some space. Hey, congratulations, anyway. I'm happy for you.”

“Thanks.” The footsteps came closer again. Nicky tried to sidle into the shadows, tried to figure out where the hell he was supposed to hide. Shane and Kian came walking past a moment later. He shrank back, and they kept going, starting to head down the path. Nicky breathed out a sigh of relief, tried to shift further into the trees.

“What was that?” Nicky looked down accusingly at the twig that had just snapped under his feet. When he looked up Shane and Kian were staring at him.

“What are you doing here?” Kian hissed. Nicky felt himself go red, not sure why he was embarrassed. If anything, he was not the one who should be feeling guilty. Kian glared at him.

“I don't know, Kian,” he retorted. “Maybe I heard someone being fucking suspicious and thought I'd go investigate.”

“Shit,” Shane mumbled. Kian sagged. Nicky did too. The three of them looked at each other, faces dappled by shadow.

“It didn't mean anything,” Kian said softly. “Nicky... you know how much I love Mark. I know we haven't always gotten on, but...”

“I know how much _Mark_ loves _you._ ” He saw Kian flinch. “Mooning around the flat when you leave and never even once looking at other lads. Believe me, I know that.”

Kian ran a hand through his hair, looking away.

“Give me one reason I shouldn't tell him.”

“Because then I'll tell him about you,” Shane said softly. Nicky looked at him. Shane didn't look happy about saying this, didn't appear the type to be good at blackmail in any capacity, but his face was resolute and his arms were crossing over his chest. He looked at Nicky. “I'll tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Kian was looking between the two of them. Nicky looked away. “What's Nicky done?”

“I tell you later,” Shane said. “But I won't tell Mark as long as he doesn't tell Mark about this. Sometimes people do things they're not... proud of. It doesn't mean we're bad people. Mark loves Kian. You want to break his heart?"

“I...” Nicky felt a lump fill his throat. He couldn't keep this secret. It was wrong. Mark had to know.

He couldn't have Mark find out like this, though. Have Mark find out his boyfriend was cheating on him and his best friend was lying to him in one blow. Because Kian would. If Nicky said something, Kian would lash out, spit it right back in Nicky's face, and then where would Mark be? Letting Nicky pick up the pieces? Letting Nicky anywhere near him?

Not bloody likely.

“Sleep on it,” Kian said. Nicky shook his head. “He's coming back home, we're going to be together like he wanted. I'll spend my whole life making sure he's happy. You don't want him to be happy? This'll kill him.”

“That's not fair,” Nicky replied. Kian shrugged.

“Life's not fair.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Come on. We'd better head back before Mark wakes up and wonders where we've all gone.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

Mark hadn't told Nicky he was moving out yet.

He didn't know how to. They'd been back a week and he didn't know how to talk to Nicky at all. They'd barely spoken. Mark didn't know what was wrong. He'd tried to. There'd been too much distance between them lately and he didn't want to leave it like this. But Nicky had been snappy at best, and more than once Mark had caught Nicky looking at him, something miserable and angry lurking behind his eyes.

It was Tuesday. Nicky had been out all day. Mark didn't know what he'd been doing, but he supposed he'd find out if he checked the updates on the website. He'd banged out of the house around ten without saying goodbye.

Mark had a feeling it wasn't going to be as hard to leave Nicky as he'd expected. Right now he didn't want to be anywhere near him.

He wanted his best friend back.

But mostly he just wanted Kian.

 

*

 

Nicky was fucking fed up with this shit.

The lad was cute. Fine. Whatever. Seemed polite enough. But this was fucking chump work and he was fucking better than this.

He hadn't seen Louis. No-one seemed that interested in him being here at all. They'd used to be interested, had seemed happy to see him, but he'd been basically shoved into the room and told to take his clothes off by some fucking director he'd never even seen.

“Watch your teeth,” he hissed. The lad gave him an apologetic look, though his gob was too full of Nicky's cock for much else. He wasn't getting much harder. The kid was trying his damndest but it wasn't exactly good enough. Who the hell did they think he was? Some fucking guinea pig to test out the rejects on? This was fucking horseshit.

“Cut,” the director called. The lad pulled off. Nicky went to get a drink of water. When he came back they had him fuck the lad. He took it okay, made a soft, mewling whimper when Nicky pushed in. Nicky sort of hated him for it. They weren't here to be fucking soft. If you were going to take it up the arse you'd better shut up and just do it. It was your decision, get over it.

When they were done he called out a goodbye to everyone. A couple of people waved back distractedly. When he went upstairs Aaron was chatting to Emma, looked like he'd just arrived, sunglasses still perched on his head, though it was getting into the afternoon and the sun was starting to go down.

“Ronan.” Aaron nodded. Nicky nodded back. “Just finished?”

“Yeah.” He sidled over. “What've you got?”

“Erm... flip fuck. Should be fun, I haven't done one in a while. But I was having lunch with Louis last week and I asked if we could organise it.”

“Oh.” So Aaron was the favourite now, was he? Fucking great. They were having cute lunches while Nicky was getting his cock bitten off by teenagers.

“You want to come up and watch? I know a couple of the others said they were going to drop in.”

“No thanks.” He couldn't look at Louis right now. He was too angry. When he'd gotten back from camping there'd been two new blog entries on the site, apparently from him. They didn't even need him any more, apparently. Fucking typical. He only had two weeks left on his contract, maybe it was time to get out.

But with Mark leaving, how the hell was he supposed to pay rent? He needed this. Needed Mark to stay. Needed Mark to stay so fucking badly he couldn't even look his friend in the eye, not without blurting everything out.

He just needed a boost. Something. One last big job to put in his savings while he looked for something else.

“Aaron,” he hedged. “How much do you get for bottoming?”

“I don't know, same as topping, basically.” He shrugged. “Why, were you thinking of changing things up?”

“No. Just... wondering.”

“Well, I suppose it depends.” Aaron shrugged. “I know Lachy Merritt over at Simon's place got a huge bonus for doing it his first time. He'd been a top for two years, though. It was a big deal. After that he probably went back to the usual rate, but yeah, that first one netted him quite a bit.”

“How much?”

“Couldn't tell you.” Aaron glanced at his watch. “Sorry, Ro, I'm running late. Talk to you later?” Nicky said goodbye and he dashed off down the hall. When he turned back Emma was looking at him.

“Let me guess, you want to talk to Louis?” she said cheekily.

 

*

 

“So how's Nicky?”

Mark blinked in surprise. That was a new one.

“Sorry?”

“Nicky. How's he?”

“I know, I just had to make sure I'd heard you right,” Mark chuckled. “Are you actually asking after Nicky?”

“I'm making polite conversation,” Kian argued. “Interested in your life, all that sort of thing.”

“Nicky's fine.” Well, he thought so. He couldn't say for sure. “How's Shane?”

“Shane's Shane.” Kian sounded dismissive, though. Things had been a little odd between them, Mark had noticed on the camping trip. They hadn't seemed unfriendly, just a bit uncomfortable around each other, especially on the second day. He didn't know what to make of it. But Shane had been even more anal than usual, cleaning up after everyone and harassing them about stupid safety things, as though they weren't half an hour's walk from civilisation, so maybe Kian had just been getting annoyed.

“I put my notice in at work today.”

“How'd that go?”

“Fine. My last shift's in two weeks. Are you still okay to drive down for my things?”

“Two weeks? That's fast.”

“Yeah, I don't want to prolong it.” He didn't. He'd help pay the last of the bills, then he and Kian could pack up the car and drive back to Sligo.

“I'm looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” He was. This was what had been missing. Making decisions and taking control over his own life. He was going to find what he actually wanted to do, maybe take Nicky's advice and enrol in a few cooking programs. Nicky had been pushing him to do that for ages, said he'd be a much better chef than a social worker. He'd never really listened, but Nicky had known what was right for him. Being something he wanted to be. Kian had always just wanted him home, but Nicky wanted him to be everything.

It had always been very sweet. Daft, but very sweet.

“Marky?”

“Sorry, what?”

“You off with the fairies, are you?”

“Can't be. You and Shane are in Sligo.” That got a laugh. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing, just...” He heard Kian sigh. “I can't wait to live with you.”

“Ditto.” He adjusted the phone on his shoulder. “We're going to be amazing.”

 

*

 

The office door was ajar when Nicky went to find Louis. He poked his head in. It wasn't like Louis to leave it open at all.

“Brian?”

“Oh. Shit. Hey, Nicky.” The other man stood up, face flustered, mouth twisting into a grimace. He looked guilty. The desk drawer was open. “How's it going? Louis just asked me to have a tidy.”

“Did he?” It didn't look tidy. There were papers all over the desk. Nicky sidled into the room, saw Brian try to smile. “Erm...” There was a folder open. “You're going through Louis' things?”

“No. Course not. No. Well.” Brian looked pained. “Erm...”

“Why?”

“I...” Brian sagged slightly. “Don't tell him, okay? Please.”

“Why not?”

“I...” Brian sighed. “Look, I'm not really a student, okay? I work for Simon Cowell.” Nicky blinked. Brian was going red. “I guess I'm a... a scout or something, yeah? Find out what he's doing, all that sort of thing.”

“Why?”

“Louis...” Brian started to shove things back into the desk drawer. It thunked closed. “He took some money from Simon, okay? A lot of money. It was all technically legal, but... you know, Simon was pissed. Then he used Simon's money to pay a bunch of boys out of their contracts.”

“Right.” This could be good. Tell Louis, be the golden boy again. Louis would give him loads of scenes, maybe up his pay. This was definitely an opportunity. “So, you're spying on Louis and you don't want me to tell him.”

“Yes, please.”

“Right...” Nicky began to turn away. A hand landed on his shoulder. Brian had rounded the desk.

“Please, Nicky.” He hesitated. “Look, Simon's been... interested in you. He asked me to keep an eye on things, you know? See who's doing well and all that, and he likes you.”

“Oh.” He wondered if Brian was just making things up, saying what he wanted to hear, but there had been the man at the party, the one who'd given Nicky Simon's card. He'd said some things about Louis too. “You know a lot about Louis, don't you? Keep your ear to the ground, all that?” Brian shrugged, nodded. “I heard someone got raped on his set.”

“I heard that too,” Brian admitted. “Gang-bang, or something. The bottom safeworded and Louis told them to keep going.”

So it was true. Nicky didn't want to be here all of a sudden. And he'd been about to ask to bottom, something he was already uncomfortable with. What would have happened if he'd said stop halfway through? Louis had already said he wouldn't set things up if Nicky was going to cop out, that it was time and money. What if...

He shivered. No. He definitely wasn't going to be bottoming. Not for Louis.

“You've got two weeks left on your contract, yeah?” Brian's hand touched his shoulder. “Simon's in town for a couple of days. I'll get you a meeting. Maybe he can offer you something else.”

“I...” Nicky bit his lip. Looked around at the small office. “Okay. Yes.”

“I'll set it up,” Brian promised. “Call you tonight.”

 

*

 

Mark was sitting on the sofa when Nicky came in.

“Hey.” Nicky sat down beside him. The TV was off, so Nicky didn't know what Mark thought he was doing, staring at a blank screen, but he supposed that was Mark's business. Just like moving home was. He still hadn't told Nicky. Nicky thought maybe he should ask, but that would lead to a thousand questions about how he knew, and he definitely wasn't getting into that.

Part of him wondered why he cared any more. Mark was leaving. Why should Nicky give a shit if Mark knew about what he was doing all the time? It was more of a shit than Mark could give about their friendship, anyway.

“Hey,” Mark said softly. He seemed sad. Quiet and not all there. A hand touched Nicky's knee gently. “Can we have a chat?”

“Depends on the chat.” Nicky nudged him. “What kind of chat? Am I in trouble?” Shit, had Shane told him? Had _Kian?_ He watched Mark take a deep breath.

“I'm... I'm moving back to Sligo,” Mark announced. “I've decided... I'm going to drop my course, take a semester off. Figure out what I want to do next. I'm not...” His voice shuddered. “I'm not happy here, Nicky. Not any more. The last few months have been....” He looked at the blank TV. “Fuck, why won't you just _talk_ to me?”

Nicky felt his throat stick, heart clench. Mark had tears in his eyes.

“About what?”

“Exactly,” Mark breathed. “I thought we were friends, you know? I thought we trusted each other, but you just...” He shook his head. “I don't know. You're just my flatmate, right? It's none of my business.”

“Mark...” Just Mark's flatmate? Was he fucking kidding? All this shit Nicky had gone through. For Mark. To keep him here, to keep a roof over both their heads, to buy him a laptop and a TV and all the other stuff and to make it up to him or being such a useless friend, and they were just _flatmates?_ “You're my best friend.”

“Kian's my best friend. He doesn't _lie_ to me,” Mark spat back.

“Yeah, keep believing that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I...” He stopped. Mark looked defeated, sad. Nicky had done that to him. Maybe it was better, Mark being with Kian. Kian loved him. Nicky knew he did. It had probably just been a mistake. They'd probably be really happy together. “Nothing.”

“You're doing it again. Why can't you just talk to me? Stop shutting me out!”

“I did it for _you!_ ” Nicky exclaimed. “Because we needed the money and I wanted you to stay. Because...” He sobbed. He hadn't used to be this soft, but lately all he'd felt was exhausted and emotional and edgy.

“Did what?” Mark's frown was challenging. “Come on, Nicky. What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“I don't...” Mark pushed his hands down on his knees and stood up. “Fine. Whatever. If you did it for me, why are you fucking miserable and angry all the time? Did you _really_ think I wanted to sit and watch you throw up and starve yourself and lock yourself in the bedroom? We don't talk to each other any more, you don't want to spend any time with me, and you want me to believe that this was for _me?_ So I could stay while you lied to me and...” He looked away. “I'm going, Nico. I can't... do this any more.”

“Mark...”

“If you want to do it, do it for yourself,” Mark's sigh was riddled with tears. “I won't be your excuse.”

The bedroom door slammed behind him.

Nicky sank onto the sofa, his head in his hands.

The light sputtered off.

He groaned, and didn't bother to go fix it, sat in the dark for ten minutes until Mark came silently out of the bedroom and went downstairs. The lights clicked back on. Mark came back in. The bedroom door closed again.

 

*

 

Kian's voice was soft on the other end. Mark wanted to hug it, wanted it wrapped around him and never letting go.

“Ki?” His voice cracked. “Can you come get me tomorrow please?”

Kian said of course he could. He asked if something was wrong.

Mark said no, everything was fine. Kian said he loved him. Mark said it back.

He heard Nicky bang out of the flat half an hour later.

Mark made himself dinner, watched some television, and went to bed.

Nicky still wasn't home.

 

*

 

Nicky had gone to the pub after Mark locked himself in the bedroom. He couldn't do it, sit in the flat and not barge in there, tell him everything. About Kian, about himself, about all the others lies and secrets from the last four months.

But it had stuck in his head, what Mark had said. Doing it for himself.

Maybe Mark was right. It had started out as a way to pay the bills, but he couldn't say that he'd kept doing it just for the money. He could have kept looking for another job in the meantime, but he'd liked it. Had to admit that he'd liked it. People praising him, the feeling like he was doing something he'd never thought himself capable of. Something that was, admittedly, kind of fun in a twisted way. Feeling, for once, like he was special. Like he had something that other people didn't, that he could be something other people weren't.

Mark was leaving. Nicky had money saved up, could look at another share flat with someone else, find a job that paid okay, and put his life back the way it had been. In two weeks he could be out. Just walk away.

Brian had called an hour after he'd arrived at the pub. He'd been watching the football when his phone had rung.

Now he was sat in a beautiful Dublin hotel room, in a chair that was probably worth more than he was.

“Ronan.” Simon shook his hand. He seemed alright, actually. Nicky didn't know what he'd expected, but Simon was just this normal-looking guy in suit trousers pulled up too high and a casual plaid shirt. Brian was pouring them a couple of drinks from a crystal decanter on the end-table. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for having me.” He smiled back.

He could walk away. He could. This was completely bloody unnecessary.

“We've been watching you or a while. I thought I knew everyone in this business, but you just popped up out of nowhere. Real success story. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” He shifted slightly in the chair.

“Now, if you were to come over to Syco, what would you expect from us?”

“Oh.” Nicky didn't know what to say. He'd just been told what to do. Stand over there, open your mouth, fuck that hole. “I... I don't know. In what sense?”

“Well, would you want a full contract, or would you just like to do occasional freelance work? Obviously I can't make promises about scheduling, but we can certainly work around your preferences.” He picked up a pad of hotel paper off the coffee table. “Let's start with pay rates, alright?” The pen was posed over the pad. Nicky swallowed and leaned forward in his chair.

 

*

 

Mark sat down next to the suitcase he was shoving clothes in. It didn't look like enough. Not nearly. The boxes near the door were full, mostly with things from the kitchen he wanted to take. The spice rack, his good skillet, a few other odds and ends. Kian would have the rest, and he wanted to leave some things for Nicky at least.

He hoped Nicky was going to take care of himself. Everything else aside, Mark was worried. But Nicky was his own person, and this was the hole he'd dug for himself. He didn't want Mark's help. Shit, he was blaming the whole thing on Mark, like Mark had wanted any of this.

Maybe he was being too hasty. He didn't want to leave things like this. Not with Nicky. Part of him had thought they'd always be friends, even once life got in the way, Nicky coming over to his and Kian's all the time and giving Kian the shits, the two of them going to the pub to watch the football, making time in their lives for each other.

He didn't even know where Nicky was now. Wasn't sure if he cared.

Mark stood back up and went to empty his sock drawer.

 

*

 

“I think these look like reasonable terms.” Simon stood, reached out a hand. Nicky did the same. Simon's grip was sure, professional. This felt like the right decision. Simon was confident, had made Nicky feel comfortable from the first, had let him dictate everything, had just asked him questions, nodded and smiled in the right places.

Nicky knew Simon wanted to stick it to Louis. He wasn't that naïve to think Simon only wanted him for his talent, but this was a good contract, something he could work with. He wanted it. It was a lot of money, a good prospect for him. He certainly didn't have any others, and this was a nest egg. An investment in his future.

Simon was based in London, had given Nicky the number for a share house a few of his other boys were staying in in Croydon. He was excited. Meeting new people, new opportunities. He could network, maybe, learn new skills and expand himself a bit.

He wasn't doing this for Mark. He was damn well doing it for himself.

“I'll see you on the first,” Simon announced. “You sure about this?”

He exhaled slowly. “I'm sure.”

“Come on,” Brian said, once the door closed behind them. “Let's go celebrate."

 


	14. Chapter 14

It was late in the morning when Nicky stumbled back to the flat. He and Brian had had a complete ripper of a night. They'd gone downstairs to the hotel bar, Brian had produced the company credit card, and they'd proceeded to get completely trashed on cocktails and expensive spirits. Nicky didn't even care about the sugar content, knew he'd be throwing most of it up. His prophecy was correct, as around three in the morning he had a puke behind a McDonalds down the street, then they'd gone in and ordered fries. He'd thrown those up too.

Now he was staggering up the stairs of their apartment building, vaguely aware that the car parked on the street in front looked an awful lot like Kian's.

The door was unlocked. He was glad. He didn't think he could figure out how to work his keys.

“Nicky?” Mark looked up in surprise. Nicky grinned and waved. “Where have you been?” He sniffed slightly. “Oh god, you smell awful.”

“Puked,” Nicky announced cheerfully. “Got fucked up.”

“I think you still are. Um...” Mark took half a step towards him. “I'm going to get you a glass of water, okay?” He headed back towards the kitchen.

“Babe, are you taking...?” Kian hesitated in the bedroom doorway, Mark's uni books under one arm. “Nicky.”

“Hey, Kian!” He waved. He was pretty sure he was going to throw up again. Mark handed him a glass of water. He took a sip. “What you doing here?”

“I... I tried to call you,” Mark explained. “You must have left your phone here.” Phone? No, Nicky's phone was in his pocket. He pulled it out, not sure what Mark was talking about. Saw Mark glance at it. Shit, this was the secret phone, wasn't it? Ah well, who cared? He was going anyway. London. Nicky, off to make something of himself. Complete legend, that lad. “I'm leaving. With Kian.”

“I thought that wasn't for a week or something?”

“Yeah, so did I,” Mark sighed. He glanced at Kian. “Ki, could you give us a second, please?” Kian disappeared back into the bedroom. “Nicky...” Nicky squinted, trying to get Mark come into focus. “Shit, this wasn't how I wanted to do this. I just wanted to say...” A hand touched his shoulder. “You're my best friend and I'll miss you.”

“I...” Nicky felt his bottom lip tremble. “I'll miss you too.” Mark's eyes softened.

“Maybe when you've got yourself sorted out we can catch up, alright? Don't ever think you can't talk to me. You can always tell me the truth.” His smile was pleading. Nicky couldn't figure it out. “You can come visit me, and I'll come down to Dublin and see you when I can.”

“I won't be in Dublin,” Nicky blurted. Kian was just sidling back out of the bedroom, another box in his arms. “I'm moving.”

“Moving? Where?”

“To London,” Nicky announced. The room was spinning. He was definitely going to throw up. “I do porn now. It's great. They give me loads of money and then I have sex with boys and they give me loads of money.” He grinned, tried to show Mark how great it was. Mark was looking at him in surprise. “I paid all our bills and I bought you that laptop and I wanted to because you're my best friend, but now I'm doing it for _me_.” He pointed both thumbs at himself in emphasis. He looked at Kian, who was starting to look panicked. “It's okay, Kian, you don't have to tell him.”

“Kian...” Mark glanced over his shoulder. “Kian knew about this?”

“Yeah. I'll keep his secret and he'll keep mine,” he sang. “Kian loves you, you know. I mean, he acts like a twat, but I think he actually loves you, even if he is a lying, cheating, piece of shit.”

“Nicky, you're drunk,” Kian sighed. “Come on, let's put you to bed.” He was glaring. Mark was looking between the two of them. “As if you'd do porn.”

“Gay porn,” Nicky corrected him. “You know, Shane knows, and now Mark knows.”

“ _Shane_ knows?” Mark was looking shocked. “Why does Shane know?”

“Because Shane wanks off to me. Like... _all_ the time. He's a fan.” Nicky laughed. Felt his stomach lurch. The room was spinning a bit. That was probably bad. “Mark... Mark.” He put both hands on Mark's shoulders. “You are my best friend in the universe.”

“Right...”

“And I fucking love you.”

“Right.”

“And Kian!” Nicky crossed the room. He stumbled a bit. The floor felt a bit unsteady. Stupid floor. “You make that boy so happy, okay? You make him the happiest thing in the whole world or I'll come to your house and I'll cut your knob off, and then not even Shane will want to shag you, alright? Not again, anyway.” Kian was going bright red. “It's okay. I won't tell him.”

“Again?” Mark said. “What do you mean...”

“You're drunk, Nicky. Go to bed.” Kian's voice was hard. “All this made up crap about porn and Shane. Go sober up.”

“The porn thing's true, though.” Nicky looked at Mark in surprise. “I... I already know. I saw...” He sucked in a breath. “Is... is something going on with you and Shane?”

“Of course not, Nicky's just being an idiot pisshead.” Kian moved away, went to put his arm around Mark's waist. Mark flinched away. “Oh come on, as if I'd sleep with Shane.”

“Twice,” Nicky corrected, then winced. Mark's eyes widened in shock. “Oops.”

He was going to say something, say he was just kidding, try to tell Mark that it was all a misunderstanding, that he was a daft idiot who didn't know what he was talking about. That it was probably the alcohol. He wasn't _that_ drunk, in fairness, but wow this floor was _really_ moving.

He felt his stomach heave, saw Mark looking at Kian with angry, tear-filled eyes.

Then he threw up on the floor.

 

*

 

Mark had been lying on his bed for almost an hour when Nicky came in.

It was the middle of the afternoon. He couldn't with any real certainty say where the day had gone, except it had started with Nicky throwing up on the floor and stumbling into the toilet to continue evacuating his stomach, and had ended with Kian shutting the door.

There'd been quite a lot of shouting in the middle.

He didn't know what they'd said, precisely. It had started with the thing about Kian and Shane – something that Mark _really_ didn't see himself forgiving soon – and had then evolved into a whole simmering cauldron of grievances, many of which he suspected were his own fault.

They'd stopped after a while, mostly so Mark could mop the floor, get rid of the smell of rising sick, then they'd sat down on the sofa, both staring at their own feet.

“I know I can't ask you to forgive me.” Mark had barked out a disbelieving laugh in reply. “I'm really sorry, Marky. I just don't want you to think it meant anything. It was never because I didn't love you.”

“That's something, I guess.” It wasn't enough, though, not nearly. They both looked up as Nicky stumbled back out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. There was the sound of retching. “Looks like I'm staying here. Good thing I quit my job.”

“You can still come to Sligo if...”

“Oh yeah, that sounds brilliant. Can't wait to live with my ex-boyfriend and the guy he cheated on me with.”

There was a long, heavy pause. He heard Kian swallow.

“Ex-boyfriend?”

Mark sighed and looked away.

Now he was laying on his bed, trying not to cry.

“Hey.” Nicky was stood in the doorway. He sounded wretched. “Kian gone?”

“Yeah.”

“He coming back?”

“No.” Mark felt his voice break. Feet padded across the carpet. The mattress rolled. Arms wrapped carefully around his waist. He flinched, then relaxed. Nicky kissed the back of his neck.

“I'm really sorry.”

Mark didn't bother to ask what he was sorry for. There was too much. He nodded instead, put his hand over Nicky's.

Nicky held him until he stopped crying.

 

*

 

They didn't leave the house that day. Or the day after that. Mark drifted around the flat like a lost cloud, eyes open but barely seeing anything. He didn't cook, just grabbed things from the cupboard or fridge and ate them absently while he stared into space.

By the third day Nicky decided he needed some sunlight and something real to eat, so he made Mark get dressed and took him down the the café on the corner. Mark sat looking into his plate like he was trying to read tea-leaves out of it and predict the future. Nicky couldn't really help him there.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he said finally. Nicky looked up from his breakfast, just some poached eggs on toast.

“About Kian?”

“No, about...” Mark sighed. “You know.”

“I just...” There were a thousand answers. Embarrassment, pride, desperation. “Because I thought you'd tell me to stop,” he admitted finally.

“You didn't want to?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Like, at first I was really nervous, but then when I started doing it... I like it. It's something I can do, and I get paid for it. Paid really well.”

“You're straight.”

“I know. And I thought that'd be a problem, but honestly...” He shrugged. “I guess it's just part of the job, you know? Like, I hated stacking shelves at the supermarket and dealing with arsehole customers, but it was worth it for the pay. I'd rather do this than stack shelves. There's parties, and the people are really nice, and yeah, sometimes I have to suck a dick. But sometimes at the supermarket I had to mop up puke. It was just a thing. I got it done, collected my paycheck, and went home.”

“I found your phone,” Mark admitted. “I was worried about you, so I went snooping. I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” Nicky patted his hand. “I shouldn't have kept it from you.” Mark didn't disagree.

“I found your sex toys too.” Nicky felt himself blush.

“Oh, yeah, you can have them if you want.” Mark pulled a face. “I haven't used any of them, I promise. Stuff in my bum isn't a thing I'm doing yet.”

“Really?” Mark looked surprised.

“Yeah. You didn't watch my videos?”

“I... might have skimmed them.” Mark's face was going red too. Nicky smirked, saw blue eyes glance away shyly. “You're moving to London?”

“Yeah, I signed with a new company.” He nodded. “They're offering me a lot of money to do my first bottom scene for them. It's a big publicity thing. I'm known for being... you know, a virgin.”

“Known? Like a celebrity?”

“Not that fancy,” Nicky chuckled. “I've got a bit of a following, though. You should see some of the comments I get online. They're filthy.” He saw Mark go redder. “Skimmed those too, did you?” he chuckled.

“Might have,” Mark hedged. Nicky smirked. “Your first time's going to be with a stranger on camera?”

“My first time sucking a dick was too,” Nicky pointed out. “And fucking a boy. Just another first.”

“Yeah but...” Mark shifted uncomfortably. “This is a bit different. Aren't you scared?”

“Were you?”

“My first time? I was a mess!” Mark laughed. “I was practically hyperventilating, terrified it was going to hurt, or that I'd like... you know. Not be that clean. I was a wreck!”

“And then everything was okay?”

“Of course it wasn't. It hurt like hell and I couldn't shit right for a week,” Mark retorted. “Took me two months before I did it a second time. It got a bit easier after that.” He poked at his eggs. Nicky felt his stomach knot. “Have you even had a finger in there?”

“I stuck one up there once,” Nicky admitted. “It was okay.”

“These are porn-star knobs, though. Like, my first time was just with Kian, and he's like seven inches on a good day.” He saw Mark pause, saw his face fall slightly at the mention of his boyfriend's name. Nicky patted his hand, saw Mark try to steel himself. “Shit.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. Guess I'll just go ask for my job back,” Mark sighed. “Enrol for my last semester and just... get back to it. Finish off all the shit I meant to do.”

“Do you want to?”

Mark shrugged weakly.

“Don't, then,” Nicky urged. “You're better than this. You know you are. Go be a chef or something. You're single, you're cute, you're young, don't be what you've decided's expected of you.”

“Oh, and what will I do instead, Nicky?” Mark rolled his eyes. “I can't make rent on my own, and if I drop out of uni I won't be able to claim student housing. At least if I apply now I can get in before you... leave.” He looked away. Nicky felt a lump fill his throat. “I'll really miss you,” Mark breathed.

“You were going to leave me three days ago.”

“Yeah, but you were being a twat.” Mark touched his hand. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry too.” He smiled, saw an echo of it tweak at the corner of Mark's mouth. “Stay in the flat,” Nicky decided. “I'll keep the lease under my name and send you my half, same as always.”

“I couldn't do that...”

“Then come to London with me.” He caught Mark's hand before it could pull away. “What are you staying here for? You're a university dropout, your ex is in your home town, and don't they have good chef schools or something in London?”

“Culinary academy,” Mark corrected, then blushed. “There's one there that's supposed to be amazing.”

“Do you want to go?” He saw Mark go to protest, say it was probably really expensive. “Find out how much it is. We'll work it out. There has to be a payment plan or something.”

“Nicky...”

“Come on. Seriously. What the fuck are you waiting for?”

“You're mental,” Mark snorted, but Nicky could see shy interest in his eyes, something hopeful and a little scared.

“I'm extremely mental,” Nicky agreed. “Think about it.”

“Okay,” Mark conceded. The hand in his squeezed tighter. “I'll think about it.”

 

*

 

It was the first time he'd been in Louis' office since he'd caught Brian rummaging. It was early morning, and he'd gotten a call the night before to say he could come in, if he wanted, do a sixty-nine with one of the lads. He did the job with a light heart. Only a week left. It was fun, hanging out with everyone, and almost choking on his own laughter when his scene partner got a cramp in his leg and almost kicked Nicky in the face by accident. It was Emma's birthday. They surprised her with cake. Nicky even had a slice, nibbling at the frosting and trying to get his party hat to sit right on his head.

“You're looking better,” Louis observed. Nicky nodded. He felt better, like a weight had been lifted off. Everything was planned out. He was eating properly again, though Mark was being really good about making healthy meals, lots of grilled chicken and vegetables. “Time off did you good.”

“It did,” Nicky agreed. “Had a good rest, sorted some things at home.” Louis nodded and smiled, then reached into his drawer and pulled out a sheaf of paper.

“I wanted to talk to you about your contract.” He tapped the top page. “You're almost up. We haven't talked about whether you're re-signing yet.”

“We haven't,” Nicky agreed.

“What are you thinking?”

“That... this has been really fun.” He'd promised Simon he wouldn't say anything to Louis, and he wouldn't, but he felt a little guilty now, looking at the smiling face across from him. Everything aside, Louis had been good to him. Had taken a chance, offered him a job. Maybe things hadn't been perfect, but it had been a start. “But it's probably time I moved on.”

“Well... it's a shame, then. I can't say I'm not disappointed.” Louis tucked the contract back into the drawer. “Anything I can do to tempt you to stay?”

“I think we both know I've exhausted my bag of tricks,” Nicky admitted. “But... thanks. For everything.” He reached out a hand. Louis shook it, then stood up and pulled Nicky into a hug. Nicky clapped his back.

“Thanks, kid. You were one of my best.” He sat back down. “Be careful out there, yeah? You want to do one more for the week? I can fit you in on Friday.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Nicky looped his satchel around his shoulders. Then he was out in the hallway. He headed back to reception, said goodbye to Emma, then headed for the door. He was walking across the parking lot when he ran into Blaze.

“I heard you were leaving,” Blaze exclaimed. Nicky baulked. Shit, word got around first. “That's a shame. We'll miss you.”

“Thanks.” Nicky hugged him. Blaze kissed his cheek. “Say bye to everyone, okay? I don't want to do awkward goodbyes.”

“I get ya. Well, maybe we'll cross paths again.” Blaze's hand was still on his arm. “In London, maybe.”

“London,” Nicky echoed. Blaze gave him a cheeky wink. “Simon...?”

“He called me last week, said he was interested. Said he already had you signed up.” Blaze chuckled. “I feel bad, leaving Louis, but that's business, isn't it? Anyway, Louis' doing well, has plenty of boys lined up, so I doubt he'll miss the likes of us.”

“I feel a bit bad as well,” Nicky admitted. “But, you know, I guess I feel safer with Simon. After some of the stuff I've heard.”

“Which stuff? Not that old crap about the gang-bang? That rumour's been going around for _years._ ” Nicky blinked, surprised. “Don't know who started it. Probably Simon, in fairness, but I'm pretty sure Louis started some stonkers about him in return.”

“It didn't happen?”

“Oh, the gang-bang happened.” Blaze rolled his eyes. “But no matter how many people I tell, no-one seems to believe I wasn't bloody raped! It comes up every couple of years.”

“That was you?”

“No, I was an underaged liar who put on a very convincing performance, and one of the lads in the scene panicked a bit and told Louis to stop. I said keep going, and it all got a bit confused.”

“The embezzlement, though...”

“Find some evidence and I'll believe it.” Blaze laughed. “Look, Louis is fine, Simon is fine. They're both very good at their jobs, and they're both competitive as hell. I'm not going because I want to stick it to Louis, I told Louis that. I'm going because my boyfriend's doing his medical degree at UCL and I don't get to see him enough.”

“Simon's offering me a lot more money,” Nicky admitted. “If I work for a few years I can save up, maybe get out of the business before it gets over me.”

“Then do that,” Blaze urged. “Everything's an opportunity if you make it one, just don't let them make you their pawn. It's fucking, it's not personal.” He punched Nicky lightly on the shoulder. “Anyway, I'm going in to do this interracial fisting thing. Sounds like a laugh.” He glanced back over his shoulder as he began to walk away. “See you round, Ronan.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

“How do I look?”

“Sexy,” Mark teased. Nicky glanced over his shoulder, saw a cheeky smile. “You'll be the best-looking pornstar there.”

“Ah, cheers,” Nicky laughed. It was his going away. He'd gone back in after talking to Blaze, told Louis the truth. That Simon had offered him a good opportunity and he wanted to move to London. Louis had gotten angry at first, had given him a few counter-offers, but Nicky could see his heart wasn't in it. They weren't on the same page any more, hadn't been for a while, and they both needed to move on. Louis already had three potential replacements lined up, so Nicky was sure he'd be just fine.

He'd organised everything with Mark. They'd looked into it, into Mark's school thing, what a flat would cost, all of it, and Nicky was going over first. He'd do a month or so of work, make some contacts, build up his savings a bit, then send for Mark when he had a flat organised for them. He could see Mark getting excited, kept walking into the room to find his friend hunched over his laptop, looking at the academy website, a wondering smile on his face.

It was fucking adorable.

“Sure you don't want to come?”

“Oh, no, I'll be a fat minger next to you lot.”

“Course you won't. You're gorgeous.” He looked over his shoulder again, at messy hair and a soft, worn hoodie, cheeks that blushed slightly in response to Nicky's compliment. “I'd shag ya.”

“How much would that cost, then?” Mark teased. Nicky laughed.

“I'd do ya for free, babe.” He pecked Mark's forehead. “You know, I should get you to shag me the first time. One of the lads said I should get someone I can trust, and god knows you've had the practice.” He meant it as a joke, but when he looked into Mark's eyes he saw something serious and shy.

“Yeah, right.”

“Just kidding,” he promised. Still, it would make sense. Not that it was a good time at all. Mark wasn't even close to being over Kian. Nicky would hear him sometimes at night, crying softly in the other bedroom. See him staring at photos, eyes misty and far away. He wasn't surprised. It hadn't even been two weeks.

“What will you do, then? Have your first time there?”

“Maybe,” Nicky admitted. “I did think about like... an escort or someone? Maybe ask one of the lads at work? It's cutting it a bit fine now, though. Getting buggered on Friday, as far as I know. Simon says he's got it all ready. I'm meeting a few lads on Tuesday to figure out who it's going to be.” He adjusted his jacket again. “Feel free to give me tips, though. I'm sure I could use them.”

“Well, I do have that dildo still,” Mark joked.

He left soon after. Mark hugged him at the door, closed it behind him, then Nicky was trotting down the stairs and into the waiting cab.

 

*

 

Mark stood in the kitchen, staring at the ingredients he'd laid out.

This was emotional cooking, probably. He'd held off, knew how he got when he was in a mood, but he'd spent all week unpacking the boxes again, emptying out the suitcase, and it had been a special kind of hell. The kettle was back in it's spot, plugged in. He glared at it. Felt like an idiot for being angry at an appliance.

He looked back down at the ingredients.

It was easy, stirring and sifting. He went extra hard with the whisk, maybe chopped a little harder than necessary, enjoying the thunk of the knife into the cutting board. By the time he got everything in the oven he felt a little better, like something had been finished, put away to do the rest on it's own.

He pulled the pie out forty minutes later, breathed in the smell of custard and apple, then cut himself a huge slice.

He wondered what Nicky was doing. Wondered what it was like, at a pornstar party, whether they were all knobbing each other or whether it was just like a normal party, sat around having a couple of beers and dancing to terrible music.

He couldn't stop thinking about the thing with Nicky. Not that losing one's virginity was guaranteed to be traumatic, Kian's first time had been fine. Which wasn't a thought he wanted to have, but some people were certainly more open to it, so to speak, and maybe Nicky would breeze through it. Grit his teeth and be all smiles by the end, like he was with most things.

He hoped the lad would be kind to Nicky, whoever it was. That it wouldn't turn into some hard, fast fuck that Nicky wasn't prepared for. He hoped they would treat Nicky well, not like some piece of meat being paid to be there. That they'd make Nicky laugh, maybe, or at least be friendly. Someone Nicky could get along with, who would respect him. That Nicky would have someone to talk to afterwards, because Mark was going to be back in Dublin and not there to give him a hug.

Mark finished his slice and put the rest of the pie back into the fridge with a post-it attached to the plate that said 'help yourself'. Then he went to bed.

He couldn't stop thinking about it, though. About Nicky and that boy.

He just hoped Nicky would be okay.

 

*

 

“But I never got to fuck you!”

“I know!” Nicky laughed. Aaron looked disappointed. “One day, maybe.”

“Is that a promise?” Aaron teased. Nicky stuck his tongue out. “Ah, you bloody tops. Fucking teases, the lot of you. Perfectly good arsehole and you guard it like it's special.”

“You saying my arsehole's not special?”

“I'd stick my tongue in it,” Jax piped up.

“You'd stick your tongue in anyone's,” Aaron retorted. The bar was packed. Half the staff were here. Emma had been giving him the eye earlier, but she'd wandered off. Nicky was wondering idly if he should go looking for her, maybe get some shift last minute before he headed off. “Anyway, he never would.”

“I'm doing it next week,” Nicky retorted smugly. “First time. Simon's making a big deal out of it, Ronan West's deflowering. I could buy a car out of what he's paying me.”

“Ooh, I should find a way to get my virginity back,” Jax laughed. “Maybe I could fake it, cash in.”

“Everyone's seen you with a cock in your arse, though.” Milos nudged him. “Two, on a couple of occasions.”

“That was a fun weekend,” Jax sighed. “Ah, well. Good luck, I guess. You're brave doing it the first time on camera. I wouldn't have filmed mine for anything.”

“It wasn't any good?” Nicky asked.

“It was fine, it was just... awkward.” Jax shrugged. “The pain wasn't so bad, but I had no idea what I was doing, and I was just sort of flopping around, trying to look like something out of a bad porno. No offence lads,” he winked at them all. “My boyfriend stopped, told me I didn't have to fake it, and it went a bit better after that.”

“My first time was with a boy I met in a club,” Leo said. “I didn't tell him I was a virgin, was too embarrassed, and I started crying halfway in because it hurt so bad.”

“Mine was lovely,” Milos sighed. “Gorgeous boy, had been dating him for a few months. We went really slowly, and by the time I came I thought my eyes were never going to uncross. It was fucking beautiful.” He took a sip of his drunk. “Twat dumped me two weeks later.”

“Ouch,” Jax winced.

“It was fine. I let his cousin fingerbang me in the back of a car a week after that. It was closure.” He smirked. “The cousin was cute.”

“I was high off my arse on molly,” Blaze snorted. “I was fourteen, and he was a kid who lived down the street. We had no idea what we were doing, but I came like a fucking freight-train.”

“My wife pegged me in a hotel room when the kids were with the babysitter,” Aaron laughed. “Afterwards we ordered a cheesecake from room-service and ate the whole thing. Brilliant night.” He looked at Nicky. “It was special. I'd have regretted it if I'd done it for the first time on camera. It's up to you, though.”

“It'll be alright on the day.” Nicky wasn't so sure now. Who the hell was he going to ask, though? Mark? He didn't think their friendship was back to being that steady yet, and Mark certainly wasn't in the right frame of mind for it. He still had that box of sex toys. Maybe he could do it to himself, just for practice, though the idea made him wince. It was like pulling off a bandaid. It was too hard to do by yourself, peeling it slowly and wincing every time it stuck to a hair. Someone else had to do it, rip it off before you could realise what was going on.

Still, the money was good, and after the first time surely it'd be easy. He could muddle through, just like he had with everything else.

Nicky went to order another drink.

When he got home, much later, he staggered to the fridge, a little tipsy. There was most of a pie there, apple and custard, his favourite, with a note telling him to help himself. He did, cutting himself off a thin slice and beginning to nibble at it, head swimming with alcohol and exhaustion. When he was done he went to look in on Mark.

The boy was asleep, curled up under the blankets, cheeks flushed and lips parted on the pillow. Nicky smiled. He was glad Mark knew. He'd been such an idiot, but everything was going to be okay now. Just he and Mark, against the world.

As he closed the door he saw sleepy eyes flicker over, looking up at him with curiosity.

“Hey,” Mark mumbled. “Have fun?”

“Yeah,” Nicky whispered. “Just checking on you. Go back to sleep.”

“'kay.” Mark closed his eyes again. Nicky put his hand back on the knob. “Nico?” He opened his eyes, lifted the blanket slightly in invitation. Nicky smiled, crossed the floor. Knew this was weird, but Mark looked warm and soft, much better than his lonely, cold bed. And anyway, Mark probably needed a bit of comfort, someone to snuggle up to, and Nicky couldn't say he had a problem with that.

Arms wrapped around his waist. He felt a nose snuffle into his neck.

Nicky closed his eyes, feeling Mark's warmth drag him down.

 

*

 

They woke up face to face. When Mark's eyes managed to force themselves open Nicky was looking back sleepily, like he'd barely woken himself. They exchanged an awkward smile. But god, Nicky was warm, comfortable pressed against him. After an uncertain moment they both edged in slightly, Nicky sighing softly when Mark's arms wrapped around his waist.

“This is weird, isn't it?” Mark said. He heard a soft laugh against his ear.

“It's bloody lovely,” Nicky replied. Mark snorted, snuggling in tighter. He was coming to realise, slowly, that he liked Nicky even more lately, now that all the lies were out of the way. He was more honest, somehow, more confident in himself and his sexuality. Not that he'd ever been homophobic, but it had always been that straight boy thing where a lingering hug might damage his fragile masculinity. Now he was making cheeky, off-colour jokes, being more tactile than ever, calling people by little endearments like it was all so natural.

“Erm... you're poking me.” Nicky looked down, and laughed.

“Sorry. It does that.”

“S'fine.” He kissed Nicky's ear. “Let's not get up.”

“Let's not,” Nicky agreed.

Mark closed his eyes, felt fingers stroke gently through his hair. Nicky said something random and ridiculous, like Nicky always had, then suddenly they were talking. Actually talking, like a dam had burst and all the pent-up garbage from the last few months was finally flooding out. Nicky talked about his job, and all the stupid things that had happened there, and what it had been like doing things like that for the first time. What the other boys were like, and how he'd thought of Mark sometimes, when he'd been doing something completely strange and out of his comfort zone. Wondering if Mark had done this, and what that had been like. Talked about feeling insecure, and feeling confident, and missing Mark.

Mark talked about Kian. About how alone he'd been feeling, and how he was scared because he'd gone from being someone else's to feeling like Nicky was doing him favours as well, but how he wasn't going to miss the opportunity. That he knew Nicky was doing it for Mark, and not for himself. About how he and Kian had been happy, and he didn't know how to be happy without him, but he was trying his best and that he was glad Nicky was here. That he'd seen this really fun recipe for marshmallow and chocolate brownies that he wanted to try on the weekend. About how he loved Nicky, and had missed him so badly.

And Nicky hugged him tighter, and went to get them hot chocolate. Then he climbed back into bed and they stayed all day, safe in each other's company.

 

*

 

“Another cuppa?”

“I'd love one.” Nicky glanced over his shoulder to watch Mark potter across the kitchen. He looked warm and comfortable, in a hoody and worn flannel pyjama bottoms that had a hole in the knee. “Do you want to go out today?”

“If you want.” Mark yawned. They'd barely left bed the day before, had gotten up early in the evening, finally, and sat in front of the TV until late, watching the football. Nicky was going to miss watching football with Mark. Was going to miss a lot of things.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Don't mind.” The rumble of the boiling kettle began to rise, filling the room. Mark yawned again. “Supermarket, maybe? I wanted to get a few ingredients, try that brownie recipe.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Will you have any?”

“I'll have one,” Nicky allowed. “I should take them in on my first day, if they turn out alright. Make a good impression.”

“Enormous cock _and_ brownies? You'll be top of the class in no time.”

“It's not that big.”

“It's pretty big,” Mark chuckled. “Here's a conversation I never thought I'd be having. I'd not spared much thought for your penis before I saw you wanking it all over the place.”

“Ah, you wondered.”

“Did I?” Two mugs of tea landed on the coffee table. Mark sat down, the couch rolling slightly when he did. Nicky shifted a little closer, saw Mark smile in a way that was almost shy.

“So, how did I do? Gay-porn-wise.”

“Not bad.” Mark nodded. “Saw a few of my moves there on the blowjobs. Feel like I should get royalties or something. Intellectual property.”

“Yeah, because you invented blowjobs,” Nicky retorted. Mark rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the advice, by the way.”

“You're welcome, I suppose.” Feet kicked out across the sofa, landed in Nicky's lap. He patted them, looked up to see Mark sat sideways in his seat, back against the arm-rest, regarding him over the lip of his mug. “I liked the one where you were in the shower, and then you finished off on the bed. It was nice.”

“Everyone seems to like that one.”

“Yeah, I don't know. It seemed like the most 'you', if you know what I mean. The others were kind of staged, like with the dialogue and story and all that crap, but this just looked like you were... you know. Having fun with yourself.”

“And you saw a lot of my arsehole.”

“I really did.” Mark pulled a face. Nicky pinched his big toe hard. “Ow,” Mark said mildly.

“Take that.”

“Mm.” Mark kicked him back. “It's a nice arsehole.”

“I got it waxed.”

“Ow.”

“Yeah,” Nicky winced. “Though in fairness, it's probably going to be doing something a lot more painful in about a week.” He was flying out in three days, was going to start packing later on that afternoon. Just basics, to start, then when Mark moved he'd bring the rest, rather than Nicky having to move everything twice. “I remember when it was just for shitting.”

“Now it's like a Swiss army knife. Multiple functions.”

“You'd know.” Nicky laughed. Mark shrugged. “Well, I got you to give me tips on blowjobs. Maybe you can walk me through this one on the dildo as well.”

“Have a scrub before you go borrowing it,” Mark joked. “Hope you've got a hygiene plan.”

“What, like a shower?”

“No, like...” Mark was going a little bit red. Nicky shifted awkwardly. “Do you erm...” Mark shifted as well. “Do you want me to lend you my erm...” He was going redder. “I have equipment. For erm... washing. That area.”

“Oh. Oh!” Nicky realised. Made sense, he supposed. “I was just going to not eat the night before.”

“Yeah, there's generally still...” Mark coughed. “Er... residue. I mean, not every time, but I tend to... just to be polite, like. In case...” His cheeks were flaming. Nicky's were too. “I have a thing. I'll lend it to you.”

“What kind of thing?”

Mark pulled his legs out of Nicky's lap and back towards his chest. Took a sip of his tea.

Then he sighed, put down the mug, and stood up.

“Come on.”

 

*

 

“So just... up my arse and squeeze?”

“Yeah.” They were both looking at the enema bulb on Mark's dresser. Fuck, this was a weird day. Mark wanted to die, but Nicky was looking quite earnest about the whole thing and he supposed it was less embarrassing than giving a dildo a blowjob in the living room. Not by much, but still. “Pull it out before you let go, though, otherwise there could be...” He coughed. “Suck-back.”

“Oh, gross.”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbled. Okay, this was definitely worse than the thing with the dildo. “Then just like... go to the toilet and it'll sort of... flush itself out. Then do it again if you're still not sure. Once is usually fine though...” He trailed off, not able to go any further while Nicky was staring at him. “Please don't give it back. I haven't used that one. I usually keep a couple of spares around, just in case. Suppose I won't be using them again any time soon.”

“Sorry.” A hand touched his shoulder. Mark shrugged. “I thought Kian was usually the one who...”

“Yeah.” Mark didn't want to know how Nicky knew that. Though the walls were paper thin, so. He felt himself go redder. “He's a bit more of a bottom than me. I'm pretty versatile, but if he wanted to bottom I just let him unless I was really in the mood.”

“Right.” Nicky picked up the bulb. “Suppose I'd better do a practice run, then. Better take the seal off that dildo too, see if I can actually do it or not. Any tips?”

“Lots of fingering before you do it?” Apparently he was the expert. That was a weird thought. “I wouldn't just try to cram it in there. And make sure you're relaxed.” Nicky snorted, like that was unlikely. “Lots of lube. If you think you've got enough, add more.”

“Noted.” Nicky squeezed the bulb. “Right, well, let's do this.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Nicky grimaced. “Here we go.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

“This is really weird!” Nicky's voice floated out of the open bathroom door. Mark looked up, not sure whether to laugh or not. Nicky had refused to shut the door, appeared to want to carry on a conversation while he did this. It was really unsettling.

“You okay?”

“It's cold!”

I told you to use warm water!”

“It's not warm enough!” There was a squeak. “It's really weird!”

“Have you done it?”

“Sort of. Almost. Wait...” There was another squeak. “Did it!” Mark almost giggled when he heard Nicky swear out loud. “Oh. No. Don't like it.”

“Go to the toilet!”

“How am I supposed to walk with my guts full of water? It'll fall out!”

“It won't!” Mark promised. “Just hold it, and sit down.” He heard three rapid footsteps, the clatter of the toilet seat. Then Nicky made a sound like a disturbed seal. Mark giggled. He heard Nicky sigh.

“Did it!”

“Congratulations!”

“It's foamy!”

“I didn't need to know that!”

“Should I do it again, just in case?”

“If you want!”

Squirt. Squeak. “Fuck!” Clatter. Splash.

When Nicky came out, Mark was almost in pieces with laughter. He got a disdainful look. Nicky crossed his arms, leaning in the doorway.

“This was a prank or something, wasn't it? That fucking thing was for basting turkeys. You're taking the piss.”

“Do you need a hug?”

“I need fucking therapy.” Nicky came over anyway, sank down onto the couch and leaned his head in Mark's shoulder. “I'm really scared,” he said softly. Mark nodded.

“You don't have to do it.”

“I want to.” He looked up. Mark smiled back, stroking blonde hair off his forehead. He wanted to say Nicky shouldn't, shouldn't exploit himself like this, but it was rather too late for that and he could see the determination in his friend's eyes. “I'm clean now,” Nicky announced. “Suppose I'd better do the next bit.” He hesitated. “Will you um... will you come sit with me? While I...”

“While you finger yourself?” Mark wanted to laugh. It was too ridiculous. Nicky looked earnest, though. Mark squeezed him a little tighter, kissed his hair.

“You don't have to,” Nicky said.

“Come on.” Mark squeezed him again. “I'll get the lube.”

 

*

 

The first finger was okay. Nicky closed his eyes, felt Mark stroke gently down his jaw while he tried to get used to it.

They were under the blankets. He'd tried to figure out the best way to do it, but in the end Mark had pulled back the covers, slid in, and lay there with him, face to face, Nicky in a t-shirt with nothing on the bottom, Mark in his pyjamas, talking to him quietly like he was trying to distract him.

Nicky was very much not distracted.

“How you doing?”

“Okay.” He worked his finger out a little, pushed it back in. It slid in the lube. He bit his lip, trying to relax around it. When he opened his eyes big blue ones were looking carefully back at him. Mark's hand was still cupping his cheek. “It's not that bad.”

“It isn't,” Mark agreed. “There's no rush. Just leave it there.”

“I'll get a crick in my shoulder,” Nicky complained. Mark rolled his eyes. They both giggled. This was utterly insane. “Gonna do another one.”

“Okay.” He pulled out, pressed the two fingers together, and began to push again. And that definitely didn't feel the same as one finger. He winced, face screwing up in concentration.

“Ah...”

“Shh...” Mark kissed his cheek. Nicky closed his eyes. Another kiss trailed down his jaw, pecked the tip of his nose, dotted onto his closed eyelids. A hand ran soothingly down his neck. He pushed into it, felt Mark shuffle in closer.

He caught Mark's mouth on the way past, heard a soft gasp of surprise, and then oh, lips were parting, and that was hot, wet, a tongue brushing his when he ventured out to meet Mark in the middle. The hand on the back of his neck tightened. It ended a moment later, and when Nicky opened his eyes Mark was staring at him, eyes sleepy and stunned.

“Erm...” Mark bit his lip. Nicky did as well.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just...” He leaned his forehead against Mark's. “That was a bit distracting.”

“Just a bit,” Mark agreed. He sounded a little hoarse. Nicky swallowed, saw cheeks flush. “I... I don't think this is the best time to be doing this.”

“Do you want to do it again?”

“Yeah,” Mark admitted. Nicky leaned back in.

He felt a huff of breath against his mouth, swallowed it, and this was a proper kiss. Sucking and tender and exploring, not like when he'd snogged those lads on camera, grinding into them and trying to get their trousers open. This was like kissing his first girlfriend, shy and a tiny bit clumsy, but hot and new and different. Heat trickling through him, Mark's tongue skating his bottom lip, and when he opened his eyes and saw closed ones, he couldn't stop himself tangling a hand in dark hair.

“Oh.” Mark blinked. Nicky licked his lips, saw Mark do the same. His fingers were still in his arse. He wasn't really thinking about that. “Think the plan got a bit off-track.”

“Keep distracting me?” Nicky moved the fingers. Flinched. Mark pulled him in again.

“Relax,” he whispered, right before his lips covered Nicky's.

 

*

 

Mark didn't exactly know why he was still kissing Nicky, except that he couldn't stop. It was like being drunk, listening to soft moans, his head spinning slightly while his hand slid under a thin t-shirt and palmed up ribs, feeling Nicky arch into it. They were pressed together, and he really wished they weren't, because he was fairly certain Nicky could feel his interest. He could feel Nicky back, a little hard against him, but soft enough for Mark to remember that Nicky was straight, after all.

Still...

“Yes,” Nicky breathed. Mark shivered, felt Nicky's body arch again, and when his thumb found a nipple there was a sick thrill in feeling it peak under his touch, feeling Nicky pull away on a gasp to mouth at his ear, soft little whines pouring from his mouth.

“What do you want?”

“I...” Nicky whimpered. “It hurts. Do it for me.”

“Oh god,” Mark muttered. He wanted to say no. This was stupid. They were best friends, and this was crossing too many of the lines they'd already been edging towards over the last few days. But Nicky wanted his help. Needed it. Was gasping as much in his ear, grinding against his thigh, and Jesus Christ, this wasn't supposed to be happening.

He was coating his fingers with lube before he knew it. Nicky pulled out. Mark replaced the fingers with one of his own, heard Nicky snarl against his ear. He tried to feel, crooking his finger for the right spot, felt Nicky shudder against him when he did.

“Oh.” Nicky's hips jolted. “Oh Jesus. Ah...” His eyes rolled back, then screwed shut. “Ah...”

“Ride it out,” Mark murmured. Nicky gulped. “It's going to feel uncomfortable, then really intense.” He pressed a little harder, began to make slow circles. “You feel that?”

“I...” He could feel Nicky's thighs trembling against his. Heard a soft sob. Nicky was hard now. Getting harder. Mark ground against him, and fuck Nicky was really tight. Too tight, but relaxing slowly, though he was clenching every time Mark moved. “I... oh god...” Arms clung to Mark's shoulders clumsily. “It...”

“It's okay,” he soothed. That was really hot, though. Really hot. Which was a bad thing to think because he was just helping out a friend, but Nicky was starting to kiss him again, sucking at his mouth and grinding in. Mark pulled him on top, felt knees rest either side of his hips, and used the better angle to go a little deeper, rocking his finger against the right spot.

“More,” Nicky groaned. Mark smirked, pulled him tighter.

“Second finger.” He edged it in carefully, crooked it, then began to move them again, both fingers curling and massaging while Nicky let out a whimper and buried his face in Mark's neck, eyes wide and staring at nothing. Mark kissed him, felt a slack bottom lip try to kiss him back. A hand clawed at his shoulder.

“Gonna,” Nicky panted. “Gonna. Gonna. Gonna.”

“Almost there,” Mark promised. Nicky whined and rutted into his stomach. “One more finger.”

“Please...”

“Soon.” He pressed the third one down, felt too-tight muscles try to reject him. “Relax,” he urged. Felt Nicky tense, then force himself to let it in. Mark pressed again. Heard Nicky yelp. “You okay?”

“Fucking finger me, Mark,” Nicky growled. Mark laughed back, saw a cheeky sparkle in eyes that were dark and dazed. Within a couple of minutes he could feel Nicky getting close. Feel him shuddering every time Mark moved, feel the tremble running under the surface of pale skin.

He crooked his fingers again, made the circles smaller, the press harder, focused all his energy on heightening the pressure. Nicky gurgled a moan. He shoved up Mark's top, began to grind into his stomach, obviously searching for friction. Mark felt a rush of want, held him tighter with his free arm.

“Ah...” A cry spilled into Mark's shoulder. Nicky's whole body jerked. “Ah...”

“Let it go,” Mark urged. “We'll do this together.”

“Ah...!” Nicky jerked, sobbed. Mark felt him seize, felt the hot surge of Nicky coming against his belly, untouched. It felt like it went on forever, and by the time he was done Nicky looked almost unconscious, was draped across Mark's chest in a floppy pile of sweat and pleasure.

Mark looked down at him, got a dazed, sated smile.

“Okay?”

“It felt like I needed to pee,” Nicky managed. Mark giggled. “Then I didn't.”

“Well, I'm wet, regardless.” Nicky gave him a small, guilty grin. Mark began to slide his fingers back out of a rather relaxed hole. “Felt good?”

“Intense.” Nicky yawned. “Want to sleep.”

“Perfect time to get a dildo in there, then.” Mark looked over at the bedside drawer, but he knew what Nicky was going to say next. Knew if Nicky didn't, then he would.

“Don't want that thing,” Nicky murmured. “Want you.” He looked up, shy. “Want you,” he repeated. A hand cupped Mark's cheek, a thumb pressing gently to his bottom lip. “Mark.” He giggled, eyes going cheeky. “Make love to me, Mark.”

“Idiot,” Mark chuckled. Nicky grinned back. “You sure?”

“Are you?” Nicky shuffled up slightly. “I want you to do it. To be the one. My... my first.” He swallowed. “I don't want it to be some lad I just met. I want it to be my best friend.”

“Will it change anything?” He didn't want it to. Really didn't want it to. He'd only just gotten Nicky back. But he was hard, could feel Nicky breathing against him, and he couldn't deny that there was something here that was very much like love.

“I'm not going to fall for you or anything, you twat. I just want you to fuck me.”

“Flatterer.” He laughed, though. Nicky shrugged back.

“I don't want it to change anything. If you think it will, we don't do it. Like, if you're going to fall in love with me or something.”

“In love with you? God no.”

“Exactly.” Nicky kissed the tip of his nose. “I'm not in love with you. I don't even like boys.”

“I'm not in love with you, too,” Mark replied. “I promise I'll still not be in love with you after.”

“That's what every girl wants to hear,” Nicky joked. Mark snorted. “Come on.” He rubbed against Mark. “You want it. I know you do. You get to do a pornstar, anyway. How many people get to say that?”

Mark shook his head.

“I don't want to do a pornstar.” He kissed Nicky. Gently. Tried to put everything into it, how much he loved Nicky, how much he'd missed him. Lips curved into a smile against his. “I'll do you, though.”

“Ah, cheers.” Nicky smirked. He sat up, stretched slightly. Mark looked up at him, at a cheeky smile and cheeks that were still flushed, hair slightly sweaty on his forehead.

Then he rolled sideways, pulling Mark over as well, both of them laid on their sides under the blankets, looking at each other.

“Come on,” Nicky said. “Let's do this.”

 

*

 

Mark getting his pyjama bottoms off might have been the most adorably awkward thing Nicky had ever seen. He wriggled them off under the blanket, lips pursed in concentration, kicked them off over the side, then pulled the blankets tight around his waist like he was trying to wear the duvet instead, his face going bright red.

“Come on, let's see.”

“Do we need to? We can just do it under the blankets.”

“For fuck's sake, Mark,” Nicky laughed. He tugged at the blankets, but Mark was holding fast. “Fine.”

Before Mark could stop him he slid down, ducked underneath, and was shoving Mark onto his back and wriggling in between his thighs while his friend protested and slapped him through the covers.

He didn't know what Mark was bloody self-conscious about. It was nice down here, warm and clean and musky. He wriggled up a little, pushed the blankets up, and smiled when he saw a hard cock sat against a thick thigh, mostly hard in a neat thatch of dark hair.

It was fine. Comforting actually, that it wasn't some eleven inch monster that was going to rip him apart like one of the chest-bursters from Alien. Not that it was small, it was just a perfectly normal cock. Quite nice, really. Not too veiny, not an odd shape or anything like that. A good three and a half stars out of five.

He really needed to spend less time around penises.

It tasted fine, when he pressed a soft, damp kiss to the head, parting his lips a little to suck slightly. He heard Mark gasp, and a hand cupped to his head through the blankets.

“Nicky...” Legs shifted apart slightly. Nicky smirked, let his tongue out to play, and heard Mark groan, felt the hand on the back of his head caress slowly through the covers. “Oh...”

By the time Nicky was halfway down the blankets were lifting back. He looked up, saw dazed eyes and flushed cheeks, a chest moving a little more rapidly. He sank lower, focused past the gag, and saw Mark's eyes widen when he hit bottom.

“Oh god...” His eyes closed, head tipping back on a moan. “Nicky.”

Nicky smirked. He'd been practicing this one. Hadn't managed it on any of the lads at work, but then they were all like sticking an arm down your throat. He pulled up, worked back down, heard a whimper, and looked up to see Mark watching him in surprise, lips impossibly red as he watched Nicky take it in.

He grabbed Mark's hand, returned it to the back of his head, and gave his friend a wink. Watched confusion skirt Mark's eyes before they widened slightly in understanding.

Because shit, Mark couldn't be the one who knew _everything_. That wouldn't be fair at all.

He groaned when he felt Mark began to fuck his throat, heard a whimper when the vibrations circled Mark's cock, another low cry when Mark thrust again. He focused, tried to ignore the gag, the rawness, because Mark was looking at him in total wonder, eyes almost closed in pleasure, and Nicky definitely wasn't going to stop yet. Not while Mark was looking at him like that.

“Nicky...” he gasped a few seconds later. “Oh fuck I...” He jerked, gasped, and then a hand was tugging at Nicky's hair, pulling him up. Nicky went. Coughed slightly when Mark popped free, licked his lips.

“How was that for you?” Nicky teased. Mark laughed.

“I didn't teach you that bit.” He closed his eyes. “Fuck, give me a minute. I'm really close.” A hiccupy gasp tumbled over his lip when he adjusted himself. Nicky climbed back up and settled into Mark's lap, kissing him slowly while he got himself under control. Within a couple of minutes Mark opened his eyes and smiled at him.

“You ready?” Nicky asked.

“Are you?” Mark pulled him into a careful hug. Nicky leaned his head on a broad shoulder, breathed in the familiar scent of his friend, relaxed into the hands that started to stroke his back. Mark kissed his ear.

“I'm ready,” Nicky murmured. Mark nodded. “Thanks.”

“I haven't done it yet.”

“I know. Just... thanks.” Nicky nuzzled a stubbly jaw. “You and me.”

“You and me,” Mark agreed. He grabbed a pillow, knelt up next to Nicky, and shoved it under his hips. Nicky looked up at him. Naked and gorgeous and smiling self-consciously. “This position work for you?”

“You're the expert.” Nicky felt a little flutter of anticipation. Mark leaned over him, kissed him gently, then reached for a condom from the drawer beside the bed. He rolled it on. Then grabbed the lube. The flutter turned into a flap. Nicky swallowed hard. A finger twisted carefully into him, then two, slippery. It didn't hurt. Mark leaned over him, his weight hovering above Nicky, radiating heat.

“Bend your knees up.” Nicky did. Mark stroked gently over his stomach. “I'll go slow. Tell me if you want me to stop.” Nicky nodded. Mark looked down, one hand reaching to guide himself, the other cupping Nicky's cheek.

He felt blunt pressure. Mark looked back up.

Okay.

He jerked, felt his body try to tell him this was a mistake, but oh god, opening up slowly on Mark's cock, kind blue eyes watching him, filling the world while he felt himself split. He couldn't say it hurt, didn't know what to call it instead. Full. Tight. Open and clenching and their eyes were locked and he wanted Mark to just _kiss_ him but he couldn't make his mouth say the words, not while he was trying to remember how breathing worked.

“Shh...” Mark soothed. Nicky gasped in a lungful of air. “Gonna stop there. You tell me when to keep going.”

“I...” He tried to hold still. Didn't want anything to move, but Mark's other hand was making slow strokes up his side, down his chest, touching him carefully all over and he felt hot and tingly, electricity racing under his skin.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, tipped his head back, tried to centre himself. “I'm okay. I just...” He opened his eyes again, glanced down. “How far?”

“About... a third of the way there.” Mark glanced down as well. Back up again. “You feel gorgeous, you know.”

“Do I? That's nice,” he said stupidly. Mark laughed.

“Do you want to change positions?”

“This is fine.” He sucked in a breath. “Little more.”

They went slowly. Started. Stopped. A bit more. Stopped. It took a while, but after what felt like forever Mark looked up, kissed his cheek, and smiled.

“That's it.”

“Yeah?” Nicky shifted. That was it. He couldn't believe it. He was really fucking glad he'd done this with Mark. The idea of doing it with someone he didn't know, someone he didn't trust, seemed abruptly absurd. “What happens now?” Which was a stupid thing to say. He knew what happened now, had done it to enough boys. He couldn't believe he'd done it to anyone, that they'd taken it so easily, that he'd been so cavalier about doing it.

“I'll start slow.”

And he did. Nicky felt the first move, felt the friction, then the push, climbing pressure. He held tighter to Mark's shoulders and tried to keep his eyes open even when Mark kissed him, parting his lips and trying to focus on the connection, the affection and wet heat. The weight of Mark on top of him, the softness of his skin and the scratch of hair, the breathy gasps Mark was making when Nicky hitched his knees up a little higher and tried to open himself. The hand holding tight to his hip.

“So good,” Mark breathed. Nicky shivered, felt the words brush against his mouth. Felt the hand slide down to the back of his knee, lift it slightly, and then Mark was going deeper, pressing up and that spot... oh god, that trembling, hot swirl that he didn't know how to name but it felt like torture. He cried out. Felt Mark shudder.

“There,” Nicky urged. Mark nodded, kept going. “Oh, there...” He tipped his head back. Felt Mark speed up. He was hard again. Reached down to keep the pressure going, trying to spread it, guide it, and he didn't care that it hurt a bit, because Mark was making slow, murmuring whimpers that sounded like prayers, and he was maybe pleading a little bit which wasn't at all embarrassing. He kissed Mark. Felt teeth dig gently into his lower lip. Cried out when the circling heat began to climb up his belly.

“Nicky.” Mark's voice was hoarse. Gorgeous. Nicky couldn't get the words out.

He cried out again instead. Felt Mark push harder. Wrapped his legs around Mark's waist.

Felt fingers tighten in his hair, a hand slide down and caress underneath his balls, then press. Felt the pressure intensify so suddenly he couldn't remember his own name. Felt them speed up, his legs aching trying to cling on, Mark's fingers grinding that spot from the outside, his cock rubbing from the inside, and saw eyes watching him with something like love but better, honest and pure.

“Yes...” He felt everything tighten. A spring coiling and coiling until there was nothing else to do but let it go. Felt himself shake apart.

Felt Mark come with a shuddering moan, their kiss binding them together.

 

*

 

They'd been sitting on the sofa in silence for a while. Mark was sure one of them was supposed to say something, but damned if he knew what it was.

“Well,” Nicky said. Then he fell silent.

“Mm.” Mark thought about turning on the TV. He didn't know where the remote was. He looked down at his bare feet instead, pyjama bottoms back on and his propriety once more intact.

“I er...” Nicky rested his chin in his hands. “Seen the remote?”

“No, sorry.”

“Oh well.” There was a long moment of silence. Both their feet tapped awkwardly on the floor. “There's a match on this afternoon. You want to watch it with me?”

“Sure,” Mark agreed. He was going to miss watching the football with Nicky for the next month, was going to miss a lot of things. “I'll make some nachos?”

“Sounds good.” Nicky started to idly peer under the crap built up on the coffee table. “Yeah, I don't know where the remote is.”

“Do you want to go to the pub instead?”

“Not sure how I feel about walking.” Nicky winced. Mark patted his knee.

“Okay?”

“I'm okay.” A small smile skated his lips. Mark smiled back. Saw eyes that were bright and sleepy, lips still red from the slow kisses they'd exchanged afterwards, Nicky looking up at him, both of them sticky, and Mark thinking that if he'd been intending on falling in love with Nicky, this probably would have been the moment.

Then Nicky had gone to shower, and when he'd come out neither of them had known what to say next.

He reached out an arm. Nicky slid over to snuggle into his shoulder. Mark kissed his hair.

“Love you,” he said.

“Love you too.” Nicky yawned. “Wake me for the match, yeah? You've worn me out.”

He closed his eyes. Mark kissed his hair again and tried to remember where the remote was.

 


	17. Epilogue

“How you feeling?”

“Ready.” Nicky bounced on the soles of his feet slightly. He was nervous. Definitely nervous. There were way too many people out there. Simon had said he'd make sure it was more private, let him get his bearings a bit and make him feel comfortable, but there were still plenty of crew out there and he had butterflies sumo-wrestling in his stomach.

It had been a strange week. He'd arrived in London, been picked up at the airport and taken to the new flat to get settled in. The lads there were all nice so far, three other boys, all around his age. He could see him getting on with them well for the next month or so.

The car had come that afternoon. The offices were much larger than he'd expected. The studios were gorgeous. Not as intimate as Louis', and he did miss that a bit, but it was definitely professional. He was already talking about doing a scene there next week, had been sent some headshots of possible scene partners. Simon had told him to pick who he wanted, and if the other boy was interested they'd try to set something up. He liked that, felt like he was more in control of what he was doing.

The last few days he'd spent with his flatmate had been quiet and comfortable. They'd done it again twice, neither pretending it was for practice or anything like that, though it had definitely been a bonus, going a little faster and harder the next time, getting used to the feeling and trying some different positions. Riding Mark had been his favourite, rolling his hips slowly and watching dark lashes flutter with pleasure, sinful red lips part on a moan. Mark had eaten him out beforehand, licked slowly in while Nicky had mewled and clawed at the pillows, not giving two shits that Mark was a boy because he'd felt fucking _fantastic_.

They'd set him up to meet potential candidates. In the end he'd chosen a sweet Scottish boy called Max. He'd watched a few of Max's videos and he liked his style, got a good vibe from him from the short conversation they'd had. They'd blocked it all out beforehand. A bit of snogging, some blowjobs. They'd just finished doing the real thing, and Nicky was more sure he'd made the right decision. Everyone was really professional, and Max was a class kisser.

Now they were in a private little dressing room while Mark pushed fingers into his arse.

“Feel ready?”

“A little more.” Nicky closed his eyes. He'd called Mark the night before. Mark had been over in a shot, had showed up on the doorstep of the flat that morning, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder. Nicky had hugged him. He hadn't wanted to do this without Mark.

The fingers spread wider. He wrapped an arm around Mark's shoulders.

“Can I put this on my resume, do you think?” Mark asked. “Professional arse spreader?”

“They're called fluffers.” Nicky chuckled. Mark pecked his forehead. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Glad I came.” The fingers moved deeper. It felt good. Nicky stroked himself, tried to keep the erection he'd been maintaining for near on two hours now. Mark glanced down. “So I got a call from Kian yesterday.”

“Oh yes?” Nicky felt himself rankle at the sound of Mark's ex's name. “What about?”

“Not much, he just wanted to talk. It was good, actually. We cleared the air a bit. I haven't forgiven him, but it was nice to kind of... sort everything out I guess? Last time we were a bit distracted by the crying and shouting.”

“It does tend to get in the way,” Nicky agreed. “Are you okay?”

“I'm okay. He's going to come to London after he finishes his semester for a couple of weeks, asked if we could catch up. I said I'd think about it.”

“Do you want to?”

“Not right now. By the end of the semester... maybe. I could be an idiot, I know he cheated on me, but I guess a big part of me still loves him. Maybe we could be the kind of exes who are on speaking terms.”

“Does that sort of thing exist?”

“Are you really asking about normal relationships while I finger my straight friend?”

“Point taken.” Nicky smirked. The fingers drew slowly back out. “Thanks.”

“For the fingering?”

“That. And other things.” He kissed Mark's cheek. “By the way, there's a really cute boy holding a boom who keeps giving you the eye.” A pink flush spilled into Mark's cheeks. “He's very nice. I met him yesterday. If you're interested.”

“I don't know that I'm really looking for a relationship right now.” Mark was still blushing, though. “Which one?”

“Blonde, glasses.” Nicky nudged him. “Why you asking? Thought you weren't interested.”

“Just... you know. Don't want to lead him on,” Mark mumbled. Nicky laughed. Got a guilty grin. “The blonde one with glasses?”

“That's him.” Nicky went to step away, but Mark took his hand. He squeezed it. Stepped back in and pulled Mark into a hard hug. “This is a fresh start for us, okay? I can't wait. We're going to be amazing.”

“I know.” Mark hugged him back. Nicky didn't want to let go. “You sure about this?”

“I'm never sure,” Nicky laughed. “But let's give it a bloody good go anyway.” He kissed Mark's cheek and reached for the door-handle. “Come on.”

Mark nudged him forward. The door swung open.

Nicky stepped through, Mark right behind him.

 


End file.
